


Sink or Swim

by endingthemes



Category: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alpha Erik, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern: Still Have Powers, Amnesia, Charles Xavier has a Ph.D in Adorable, Erik Logic Is The Best Logic, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Honestly Erik what are you thinking, Kid Fic, M/M, Omega Charles, Romance, Slow Burn, dadneto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-17 02:25:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 57,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4648683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endingthemes/pseuds/endingthemes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik is a struggling single dad of three kids with a burning hatred for Sebastian Shaw, the man who wronged him years ago. He’s tried to move on with his life, but a run-in with Shaw’s rude, spoiled omega, Charles, drags up old anger. </p><p>When Charles ends up in the hospital after an accident, Erik goes to confront him only to find that Charles has amnesia. In the confusion, Charles mistakenly assumes that Erik is his mate.</p><p>Erik knows he should clear up the misunderstanding, but how can he pass up this perfect chance for a little revenge?</p><p>(An Overboard AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [Sink or Swim 落水奇缘](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5401769) by [Nightingale_in_Nirvana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightingale_in_Nirvana/pseuds/Nightingale_in_Nirvana)
  * Translation into Русский available: [Sink or Swim](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6589651) by [akina4an](https://archiveofourown.org/users/akina4an/pseuds/akina4an)



> I've been wanting to write an Overboard AU for a long time, so I finally sat down and made it happen :') Though this fic borrows the premise from the movie and hits some of the same plot points, it deviates quite a bit and kind of became its own monster. I hope that fans of the movie won't mind this! Also, this fic is almost finished and I'm going through and editing, so no worries about it languishing as a WIP. 
> 
> I want to give a huge thanks to [thenewgothicromance](http://archiveofourown.org/users/thenewgothicromance/pseuds/thenewgothicromance) for chatting with me about this fic before I even sat to down to write and encouraging it to happen. You're a total hero and always swoop in with advice to save me when I'm stuck. And another huge thanks to [Thacmis](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Thacmis/pseuds/Thacmis) for being the best cheerleader on the planet and giving great insight while constantly poking me to write more. You guys are the best <3

“Dock five,” Erik repeated, checking Azazel’s messy handwriting again. This was dock five, so this must be the boat he was looking for, but to call it a boat seemed a woeful understatement. A gigantic luxury yacht sat before him, pristine and glorious, especially luminous compared to the dirty fishing trawlers and cracked speed boats surrounding it.

Erik shrugged, adjusting his grip on his toolbox and taking the little boarding bridge onto the lowest deck. “Hey!” he called. “Hello!”

A dark-haired man’s head popped over the railing on the top deck. “May I help you?” he called down, a light accent to his voice.

“Yeah, I’m the electrician.”

“Ah, one moment please.” The head disappeared.

Erik took a moment to once again study the massive ship and wonder just what the hell it was doing in this podunk coastal town instead of somewhere expensive and exclusive. Even the metal of it felt different than the surrounding ships, more solid and rich.

The man had finally made his way down to Erik, a polite smile pasted on his rather handsome face. “Hello,” he greeted, manners impeccable. “My master called for you. We’re having trouble with the power on the top deck. The air conditioner won’t turn on.”

Erik raised a brow at the use of the word “master” but decided an easy paycheck was worth letting it slide. “Show me.”

The man nodded and led Erik up two decks until they reached the top of the boat, which was an impressive height. Another man was there, lounging on a cushioned bench at the bow of the yacht in a ridiculously small blue speedo and an open robe.

“Janos,” he said, words slightly slurred. “It’s hot.”

“Yes, sir,” Janos replied immediately, picking up the nearby wine bottle and refilling the lounging man’s glass. “The electrician is here to fix it.”

The drunk, mostly naked man turned blurry blue eyes on Erik. “Why, hello,” he drawled, his lips curling into a small smirk.

“The AC,” Erik prompted, ignoring the obvious come on, and Janos nodded, leading him along the outside of the cabin to the small closet that held the machine before excusing himself to return to his no doubt high maintenance master. Erik determined the problem quickly and easily with a sweep of his powers, and glad to see it was a relatively simple fix, set to work. The outrageously drunk man’s posh voice carried from the around the corner where he was chittering to his servant.

“I hope it’s fixed quickly. I’m surely going to die if it’s not. Can I have some more of that delicious wine? Thanks, darling. Oh, and where’s Sebastian?” Erik stiffened, accidentally bending the wire in his hand. “I haven’t seen him all day.”

“He’s gone into town to pick up a few things.”

The man huffed out a laugh. “I’m sure he did. I hope he gets his dick wet there so he doesn’t bother me.”

Erik’s brows raised, but he didn’t need to get caught up in rich people’s idle gossip. He threw himself fully into his work, blocking out the inane conversation. He was so focused that he didn’t even hear the padding of footsteps behind him until a sudden shadow appeared over him, giving him mild relief from the heat of the sun.

“Is it fixed yet?”

Erik, from his crouched position, turned to the face the man, his eyes tracing up the lightly muscled legs, over the bulge in his speedo, up his flat stomach, past his light pink nipples and finally settling on his face.

“No,” he said, and the breeze blew then, carrying with it a sweet scent that Erik inhaled despite himself.

An omega.

He should have guessed. Omegas were the most rare designation, but Erik had known a few in his life, and they had always been just as hardworking and headstrong as any alpha or beta. The upper classes, however, treated their omegas differently, pampering them like a prized pet and making sure they never saw a bit of hardship in their lives. That this little piece of fluff was a spoiled brat came as no surprise.

“Could you hurry? I’m really quite hot.”

Erik gritted his teeth. “I’m working on it. It’s easier without interruptions.”

“Rude,” the omega said with a frown, but he turned away, swaying slightly as he made his way back down the deck. Erik’s eyes caught on the bond bite on the back of his neck, and that explained why Erik hadn’t noticed his scent the moment he’d stepped on board. Mated omegas still smelled good, but their scent was mixed with their alphas’, dampening it and making it less appealing to others.

Shrugging, Erik got back to work and managed to finish in good time. Wiping his hands on his jeans, he made his way to the front of the yacht again. “AC should be working now.”

“Lovely,” the lounging omega said, taking another long sip of wine. “Janos, be a dear and turn it on.” Janos nodded and went into the cabin, coming back out a moment later and propping the door open so that cool air could flow out onto the deck. “Perfect.” The omega smiled contently, completely uncaring about the sheer amount of power he was wasting. No wonder the AC had burned out.

“Pay him,” the omega ordered, adjusting himself on the bench, letting his pale thighs fall open lazily. Erik tried not to look and failed miserably, only managing to drag his eyes away when Janos returned with a wallet nearly bursting with cash. He set down his toolbox on a nearby table and began to write out the receipt with the total. The omega slid from his seat, walking on unsteady legs to check out Erik’s toolbox like a cat with a new toy.

“Don’t touch it,” Erik ordered, not looking up from the form he was filling out. A loud crash had him dragging the pen halfway across the paper in surprise, and he whipped around to find his tool box upside down on the deck and the majority of the tools rolling off of the side of the yacht. Even with his quick reflexes, he only managed to catch two with his powers before they were over the edge.

“Oops,” the omega said, then started laughing, a bubbly, drunken giggle.

Erik nudged him out of the way, and he fell aside dramatically with a squawk that Erik ignored as he knelt to take stock of what he’d lost. “What the hell? You just knocked more than half my tools into the water!”

“You shouldn’t have put it so close to the side of the yacht!” the omega shot back.

Erik turned wide eyes on him. “Are you kidding me? You’re the one at fault here, you messy drunk!”

“Excuse me?” He looked like he was attempting to put his hand on his chest to signify his shock, but he missed slightly and it landed on his stomach instead. “You are very, very rude.”

“Ah, sir,” Janos tried, but the omega interrupted him.

“Escort him off, Janos!” he cried, jabbing his finger at Erik. “He’s trying to punish me for his own mistake! He’s an asshole!”

“I’m an asshole?” Erik asked, incredulous. “You’re a spoiled little bitch!”

The omega’s jaw dropped in sheer offense. “You’re horrible. I’m not going to pay you a dime.”

“What?” Erik looked down at his now half-empty tool box. “You need to replace these.”

The omega stood and planted his hands on his hips. “I don’t need to do a damn thing.”

Erik jumped to his feet, getting in the omega’s face. “Now listen here--”

Janos’ arm shot out, holding Erik back, and the omega smirked up at him. “An aggressive alpha threatening a mated omega? Oh my, Janos, shall we call the police?”

Erik balked. “You need to pay for the work I did and the tools I lost,” he said evenly.

“Give him one hundred dollars, Janos, no more.” The omega went back to his perch on the cushioned seat, spreading out in the sun. “We’re done here.”

Erik gritted his teeth as he was escorted off and handed a measly one hundred dollars, which wouldn’t even begin to cover the costs. He stood on the dock, glaring at the yacht with all his might. He thought about searching out a part to break, something important and expensive to sabotage, but no, these rich people knew who he was and they weren’t principled at all. They’d contact the police, and Erik would lose everything… again.

In a fit of pique, he searched out the AC he’d just fixed, and with enough concentration to leave him panting, he shorted it out. Smirking, he made his way down the dock.

It took three tries to get his old beat up truck to start, but it finally sputtered to life, and Erik began to make his way home. He pulled out his cell and called Azazel, telling him about the entire incident, his blood boiling as he recounted it.

“Sucks that your first job here turned out to be something like that,” Azazel said. “If they call again, we’ll refuse to send anyone. Let me check the name again.” There was a beat of silence. “Dock five, Charles Shaw, yes?”

Erik nearly lost control of the car, but managed to right it with his powers, pulling over onto the shoulder instead.

“What?” he grit out.

“Charles Shaw,” Azazel repeated. “I know you hate that name, but…”

“No, it’s not that,” Erik said. “He’s got a husband named _Sebastian_. The yacht-- did he give you the name of the yacht?”

“The Caspartina.”

The same name that had been on the picture in Shaw’s office. A picture of him and his friends on a yacht with smarmy smiles, looking down on Erik as he’d begged for more time.

Erik saw red. “It’s _him_.”

“Erik,” Azazel said quickly, voice taking on a warning tone. “Don’t do anything rash. You can’t afford to do anything rash.”

Every muscle in Erik’s body pulled taut, and the metal of the car creaked ominously around him. Of all the people in the world to be humiliated by, of course it would be Sebastian Shaw’s fucking omega, and of course Erik would be powerless to do anything. He should have pushed harder to be paid his fair and owed amount. He shouldn’t have backed down like some kind of coward, slinking away with his tail between his legs.

“Erik,” Azazel said again, patient but insistent. “You’re going to have to let this go. Shaw’s taken enough from you. Don’t let him take more.”

Erik’s hand was clenched so tightly on the steering wheel that his knuckles were white, but he let out a long slow breath and said, “You’re right.”

***

Erik pulled onto his property with his mind still reeling. He tried to compartmentalize, fold up his feelings and tuck them away, but the urge to maim something hadn’t completely left him. As the house came into sight, he spotted another car parked out front in the shade of the trees. It was a fairly new and clean blue sedan that looked out of place in front of his shabby house with its peeling paint and rickety, uneven porch.

The screen door opened and out came a woman dressed primly in a blouse and slacks, glasses hanging around her neck. “Mr. Lehnsherr?” she called.

“That’s me,” Erik said, shutting his car door with too much force. “And you are?”

She stuck out her hand and Erik took it. “Moira MacTaggert. I’m a teacher at Randall Elementary. I came to meet my new students who have just moved in and I find two seven year-olds alone for hours with a six year-old. Care to explain?”

Erik winced. “I just had a few quick errands to run, you see.”

She looked unmoved. “You need to have someone here to watch your children. They told me this is a pretty common occurrence ever since their grandmother passed.”

Erik forced out a smile he hoped looked semi-natural. “They like to exaggerate. Not common at all.”

She studied him closely, her eyes narrowed. “If I come back here next week and find these kids alone again, I’m sorry but I’m going to have to call CPS.”

Erik kept his face cool even as his heart began to pound. “I understand.”

Erik watched the car until it disappeared out of sight. Pietro was the first to burst out of the house, running straight to Erik and slamming into him hard enough to knock the wind from him, his words coming so fast Erik couldn’t begin to make them out. Wanda followed soon after, closing the door on Lorna who was trying to follow and sticking out her tongue at her. “Loser!” she said and dashed to Erik, tugging on his jeans.

“Don’t say that to your sister,” Erik scolded half-heartedly, exhausted.

“I’ll say whatever I want to her!” Wanda said. “She sucks.”

“Yeah!” Pietro agreed, the first intelligible word Erik had heard from him.

From behind the screen door, Lorna burst into tears.

Erik sighed. This was his life. He was going to have to find some way to deal with it.

***

Charles was in the bedroom, drinking wine straight from the bottle when the yacht began moving, signaling that Sebastian had finally returned.

“My sweet,” he said as he swept into the room, “I heard you had an unpleasant day. Would you like to talk about it?”

“No,” Charles said unequivocally. “I’d really rather not. And where have you been?”

Sebastian smiled indulgently, sliding onto the bed next to Charles. “Taking care of business at home to make sure I can continue to keep my pretty omega happy.”

“You’re a dear,” Charles said, not at all meaning it. Sebastian’s mind was as blurry and hard to touch as usual, some side effect of his mutation. Charles was rather glad for it. He didn’t want to know what the snake of a man got up to. Sebastian laid his hand on Charles’ bare thigh, squeezing lightly.

“How about a kiss?”

Charles pressed a quick, perfunctory peck to his lips and then took a long, deep drink of wine. Sebastian was watching him with hard eyes, but he sounded pleasant when he spoke. “How about a walk outside on deck. It’s a beautiful evening.”

Charles didn’t want to go, but if it meant Sebastian’s hand would no longer be on his thigh, an evening walk sounded lovely indeed. “Let’s then.”

Charles reluctantly left the wine bottle behind and they went out into the cool night air, setting a slow pace. Sebastian took Charles’ free hand and rested it in the crook of his arm as if they were at some fancy party as they continued to stroll, only stars and the moon casting light in the darkness.

After a few turns, they stood at the bow for a rest, leaning their elbows on the railing and looking out into the dark water. The coastline had already faded into the distance, and Charles idly wondered where they were heading next, not that it particularly mattered. His head was light and full of the happiness of drink and even Sebastian standing right next to him couldn’t ruin it. In fact, as much as Charles hated to admit it, Sebastian smelled quite good tonight, his alpha scent making Charles’ palms sweat. He’d need to find those birth control pills he’d smuggled on board soon, he realized, scolding himself for not tracking his heat more carefully. The last thing he needed to do was actually get pregnant with Sebastian’s child.

“What’s on your mind, my love?” Sebastian asked, his voice soft.

“Children,” Charles said honestly, hoping that was an answer he wanted to hear. And yes, the brightening of his mind declared it was the right answer indeed, though Charles felt he might be ill.

He forced the nausea down. Better him than Raven. Whatever else Charles had done in his life, he’d never regret saving his little sister from becoming Sebastian’s bride.

Sebastian pressed a kiss to Charles’ neck, his lips tracing the bond bite, and Charles swallowed against the warring feelings his own body, the urge to pull away and push into the touch equally strong. “You are exquisite,” Sebastian said, his lips dragging over Charles’ skin. “This really is too bad.”

Charles barely had time to blink in surprise before he was shoved, toppling over the railing and falling through the air. He hit the water hard, the icy cold knocking the breath from him.

He came up sputtering and trying to yell for help, but he was choking on water and the salt was scratching against his throat. He struggled to stay afloat, but his desperate strokes faltered against the strength of the waves. Sebastian was still standing there at the railing, staring down at Charles with a serene smile on his face as the yacht continued to drift farther and farther away. Charles sent out a last desperate telepathic cry for help, but his legs were giving out and his hope was fading. Finally, exhaustion took him, and he sank into black.

***

Pietro threw a piece of his waffle into Wanda’s face and she screamed, scooping up a spoonful of runny eggs and launching them at her brother. She missed and they landed in Lorna’s green hair instead, sliding out slowly and plopping onto the table.

“Stop it,” Erik snapped at the twins, but it was too late and tears were already forming in Lorna’s eyes. Trying to avoid a complete meltdown, Erik pulled her into his lap, dabbing a napkin at her hair and rocking her gently.

Azazel was watching the whole exchange looking rather amused. “The joys of parenthood.”

Erik shot him a glare, but the effectiveness was lessened when he had to cut it short to stop Pietro from sticking his fingers in the syrup jar. Luckily, the diner was mostly empty and the waitress, Angel, had a soft spot for kids. She’d proudly showed off her wings to them the last time they’d come in, and Wanda had declared she’d wanted that mutation when she grew up. Erik didn’t fully understand Wanda’s powers still at this point, but he was beginning to suspect if she wished hard enough for wings, it just might be possible.

“Looks like work isn’t an option today,” Erik said with a sigh. “I don’t know where I’m going to get the money for daycare. Mama didn’t have any savings.”

“I thought you moved back here because it’s cheaper,” Azazel said, yanking his tail away from Pietro’s questing hands.

“It’s cheaper, yeah, but it’s still not free.” Erik put his head down on the table and Wanda put eggs in his ear. He swiped them out without even bothering to scold her. “I need a nanny.”

“That you do. Or a new wife.”

Erik frowned up at him from the table. “No.”

“It’s been six years, Erik.”

“No.”

“Fine,” Azazel put up his hands in surrender. Erik knew his childhood friend was just trying to be helpful, but the last thing he needed was another lecture. “I’ll stay out of it.” Azazel turned away to watch the old, slightly off-color TV in the corner. They were reporting on local weather and the strong tides when a reporter cut in with breaking news.

She was standing outside of the local hospital Erik had passed a few times in town with a serious expression on her overly made up face.

“Jim, we’ve got a developing story down here at Weatherford Hospital. A man was found unconscious this morning on the beach by a local fisherman. He was rushed to the hospital where I’m being told he was treated and has woken up. We’re waiting for more information, but they have released a picture of the man and are hoping to find his family.”

Erik fumbled his coffee mug and liquid splashed onto the table, making Wanda exclaim with glee as she began to fingerpaint with it.

“They’re describing him as five foot six inches and about 140 pounds with brown hair and blue eyes,” the reporter continued, but Erik didn’t hear it, his mind shutting down completely at the sight of the photograph of Charles Shaw, pale and confused, but unmistakable on the screen.

“That’s him,” Erik said and Lorna looked up at from where she was pressed to his side.

“Who?” she asked at the same time as Azazel did.

“Charles Shaw,” Erik grit out.

“That’s him?” Azazel asked. “Well, can’t say Shaw has bad taste.” He caught sight of Erik’s expression and the teasing dropped from his voice. “Erik,” he said warningly.

“I’m going to go see him,” Erik said, tone allowing for no argument as he slid from the booth.

“What? Why?” Azazel asked. “It’s over, Erik.”

“It’s not over. He owes me money.” Erik looked around at his three kids with what he hoped was a cowing glare. “Be good for Azazel.”

“Erik, wait! You’re letting your pride get in the way here!”

Erik didn’t dignify that with an answer, storming out of the diner without a backward glance. He’d been given a second chance to prove he wasn’t to be messed with. He wasn’t going to let Shaw’s omega get away with this.

***

The nurse at the front desk was delighted to hear that Erik knew their patient. “Oh, thank goodness,” she said, wringing her hands. “The doctor has been so worried.”

“Worried?” Erik asked as she began leading him down the hallway. “Is he injured that badly?” Not that Erik really cared, but he didn’t want to come across as a complete sociopath.

“Oh, no,” she said. “But it’s better if the doctor explains it to you. I’m afraid it will come as quite a shock.”

“What will?” Erik asked, but the nurse just looked at him with sympathetic eyes, saying nothing. The nurse knocked on the door frame, and the doctor in the room turned, his appearance startling Erik. He was giant and blue and furry and by far one of the most intimidating mutants Erik had ever seen. His clean white coat and smart glasses didn’t dampen his beastly look at all. Erik was so struck by him that it took him an extra moment to notice that the bed was empty and Charles was near the window, pacing back and forth in the small square of sunlight coming in.

“He knows our mystery man,” the nurse said, and the doctor’s face broke out into a smile with sharp teeth.

“What great news!”

Charles stopped pacing, turning from the window to look at Erik, his eyes widening. He looked completely different from yesterday’s luxurious spoiled omega, wearing a pair of too large scrubs, his hair a tousled mess and his freckled cheeks pale. “Do you,” he asked, his voice small and unsure, “know who I am?”

“Of course,” Erik answered, wondering just what game this little brat was playing now. “You’re Charles--” But Charles let out a small sob and dashed across the room, throwing his arms around Erik and digging his face into the crook of Erik’s neck and _scenting_. Erik stiffened immediately, his arms hanging limply by his sides.

“This is just wonderful,” the doctor said. “I’m so glad it all worked out. See? I told you your mate would come for you.”

Charles nodded, his nose still buried in Erik’s neck. “Thank god you’re here,” he whispered against Erik’s skin. Erik blinked helplessly.

“I’m not--” he started, but Charles pulled back far enough to look up at Erik with his bright blue eyes shining with tears, and the words died in Erik’s throat.

“We’re going to need to talk to your mate,” the doctor said kindly, laying a comforting hand on Charles’ shoulder. “He doesn’t know what’s going on yet.”

Charles nodded, finally releasing Erik completely and the sudden loss of warmth was jarring. He wiped ineffectually at his eyes. “I understand.”

Erik didn’t. Erik had no fucking idea what was going on and his panic must have shown on his face because the doctor led him out of the room with a surprisingly strong hand on his back. Charles made a whimpering sound as Erik disappeared out of sight.

“I’m Hank McCoy,” the doctor said as he guided Erik to an office, sitting him down and shutting the door before taking a seat behind his desk. “You must have had a very difficult night. May I ask why you didn’t report your mate missing?”

“My mate…” Erik repeated dumbly.

“I know this must all be coming as quite a shock to you.”

 _You have no idea_ , Erik thought.

“We believe he spent a significant amount of time in the water,” Dr. McCoy explained, “but we’re not sure how he ended up on the beach. He must have fallen from a height because it seems mild head trauma is the cause of his amnesia.”

“Amnesia?” Erik asked.

Dr. McCoy’s lips thinned. “He doesn’t remember a thing.”

Erik blinked.

“I know it sounds bad,” the doctor continued, “but there’s no reason to believe the memories won’t return, especially if he can surround himself with the familiar, like you and his home and his possessions. We’ve run every test we can think of, and he’s physically just fine, aside from his scenting ability.” Dr. McCoy adjusted slightly in his seat. “You know how sensitive an omega’s sense of smell is, I’m sure. Well, he inhaled enough salt water to nearly drown himself and it appears he’s damaged some scent receptors.”

Erik felt dizzy.

“Are you alright?” Dr. McCoy asked. “You look a bit pale.”

“Yes,” Erik said, barely registering his own words. “I’m alright.”

“I know that it must be sad to hear that your mate was hurt and can’t even properly scent you, but I promise this is something that will also heal and return with time. If it causes trouble with heats in the future, we’re more than willing to work with you on hormone treatment.”

“Uh, thank you,” Erik replied, half-listening. His mind was a million miles away, combing through possibility after possibility as the doctor continued on about more details of scent-damaged mating that Erik didn’t care to hear.

Charles Shaw had no idea who he was. Erik wasn’t going to be able to get a penny out of him, so he was useless. This whole trip down here had been a waste of time.

But Charles Shaw also thought Erik was his alpha. Erik knew the proper thing to do was to clear up the misunderstanding, but…

Well, there was another option. Something that could fix quite a few problems in Erik’s life and make sure that Charles properly paid Erik back for the tools he’d lost. Erik thought about Moira and CPS and his filthy home. He thought about his kids whom he loved more than life itself, even if they drove him nuts, and the unbearable threat of losing them.

Erik may have been lacking in many good qualities, but decisiveness wasn’t one of them. He took a deep breath and interrupted Dr. McCoy’s speech on scent therapy. “Thank you so much for taking such exceptional care of my mate, doctor. When can I take him home?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for the comments and kudos! I'll try to update at least once a week, but hopefully I can manage more :')

As the nurse helped Charles into the beat up truck, Dr. McCoy pulled Erik aside. “I just had one more question. Your mate is a baseline human, right?”

“Er, yes,” Erik hedged, unsure what the answer truly was. He hadn’t seen any sign of Charles having a mutation, but he’d spent a total of fifteen minutes in the man’s presence.

Dr. McCoy’s shoulders relaxed slightly and Erik knew he’d passed the test. “Great. We thought so but he did test positive for the X-gene, so we wanted to make sure. He said he couldn’t feel any sort of power or anything, and our mutations are like another sense, the same as seeing or tasting, so amnesia shouldn’t remove our ability to use them. I just wanted to check with you to make sure we didn’t have anything to worry about.”

Erik trusted the doctor more than his admittedly nearly nonexistent knowledge of Charles. “Yeah, just a regular old human.”

Dr. McCoy shook his hand and sent them on their way.

The atmosphere in the truck was tense as they pulled out onto the road. Charles was staying quite still in his seat, but he was the one to break the silence. “This is a nice truck.”

Erik couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. “This truck? It’s a piece of shit.”

Charles frowned. “You obviously love it if you’ve had it for this long. Plus, it’s still running. It’s a good, dependable truck.”

Erik didn’t even know how to answer that. It certainly wasn’t what he’d expected from a spoiled, rich kid. “It’s a good truck,” he admitted. “I’ve named it Magneto.”

“That’s a stupid name,” Charles said without hesitation, and Erik snapped his mouth shut, rather offended. Charles must have caught this because his face dropped, and he mumbled, “I’m sorry. This is all rather strange.”

“Tell me about it,” Erik agreed, still wondering if he’d finally gone off the deep end.

“So,” Charles said. “Can you tell me… about me? Or us?”

Erik nodded, trying to figure out where to begin. He needed a story he wouldn’t mess up easily, something close enough to the truth to keep his existing life consistent with his fake one with Charles. “I was born and raised here, in Newport, but I moved to the city right before high school. I met you there.” He’d met Magda there of course, but the lie would be easy to keep up. “We fell in love pretty quickly.”

“High school sweethearts.” Charles was smiling. “That’s very romantic.”

“It was,” Erik said, getting into the memories. “A little too romantic maybe. We got married right out of high school, probably before we were ready, but you wanted out of your house. It wasn’t a great life.”

“Ah,” Charles said simply, obviously picking up on Erik’s hint. “So my family…?”

“All dead now.” And that was true. Erik had never gone back to let Magda’s abusive father know that she’d died. He didn’t owe a thing to that man, neither of them did, and when Erik heard later that he’d died of a heart attack, he’d felt nothing but joy at his passing.

It was hard, though, to think about Magda. To remember how young she’d been, not even old enough to legally drink and already dying from an aggressive cancer that Erik couldn’t even begin to understand. They’d been foolish, getting pregnant with the twins and then getting pregnant again only a few months later. Few betas were that fertile, but Magda had been.

They’d laughed and cried and tried to figure out money, but then at eight months they’d realized Magda’s health was bad, and that it wasn’t just a side effect of pregnancy, but something else. The hospital bills racked up, and the twins were expensive and the little hardware shop Erik’s father had left him was barely keeping them afloat. He applied for loans everywhere he could, but no one wanted to finance a twenty year-old father of three, and that’s how he ended up getting a loan from one of Shaw’s men, something he’d foolishly thought was legit until he realized everything that had been snuck into the contract. He’d gone to Shaw’s office to beg for mercy, throwing his pride aside and waiting for hours in the lobby surrounded by pictures of Shaw’s wealth, but the man hadn’t even bothered to see him. No, Erik hadn’t seen Sebastian Shaw in the flesh until he’d shown up with two hugely muscled men to check Erik’s property and seize it, declaring that it would make a lovely poker den.

Erik lost everything. All the money. His store. His home. His wife. And Shaw laughed all the way to the bank.

“Erik?” Charles sounded worried. Erik wasn’t sure how many times he’d called his name.

Erik gave him a tight smile. “Sorry, just got caught up in the memories.” It was swift reminder that no matter how innocent Charles looked, Erik was sitting right next to the enemy.

Charles opened his mouth to ask more, but Erik beat him to it, telling Charles instead that they’d arrived at home sweet home. The house came into view as Erik drove past the copse of trees, and Charles face fell.

“That’s our…?” He looked to Erik.

“Yes,” Erik said, turning off the truck. “Let’s go in.”

Charles approached the house slowly. He was still in the borrowed scrubs and sandals, and he gingerly put a foot on the old rotted porch as if testing if it could hold his weight. Erik brushed past him, unlocking the door and throwing it open.

“Welcome home.”

Charles stepped cautiously into the living room, studying it with an expression of dismay. Erik couldn’t blame him. It was a disaster area, toys and clothes and tools and even food strewn everywhere. Pietro and Wanda were responsible for most of the damage, but Lorna was the one who’d twisted the TV’s antenna into disrepair. Erik itched to clean every inch of it, but there was no time, not when he could barely afford to keep the electric on.

The kitchen was slightly less cluttered, but still littered with dirty dishes and empty boxes of macaroni and cheese.

“I… live here?” Charles murmured, more to himself than Erik.

“The bathroom’s down the hall, here,” Erik said, leading Charles to it. “Maybe you’d like to take a shower while I go pick up the kids?”

Charles face paled. “The kids?”

“I didn’t want to startle you, but yes, you have three beautiful children.” Erik knew he shouldn’t be finding this amusing, but he was. Charles looked like he’d seen a ghost and he put a hand out to the wall, steadying himself. No doubt this spoiled princess was terrified at the thought of having a real responsibility in his life, and every shock Erik was scaring out of him was another sweet bit of revenge.

“Children…” Charles choked out, looking faint. “Children.” He leaned more fully against the wall. “I can’t even remember my own children…” Tears began to well up in Charles’ eyes and suddenly this wasn’t very amusing at all. Erik had had enough of crying for a lifetime. “Your face and my name are the only things I recognize. Oh god, I can’t believe I forgot my own children.”

“Take a shower,” Erik said, the command coming out more harshly than he’d intended. He wasn’t going to comfort Sebastian Shaw’s fuck toy. He’d brought him here to be a nanny and to knock him down a peg or two. His memories would come back and he’d be outraged and then he’d leave and Erik would laugh his ass off and that would be the end of it. He wasn’t supposed to be standing in the hallway of Erik’s home looking like a kicked puppy desperate for a cuddle.

“Yes.” Charles wiped at his eyes. “I’m going to do that.” He glanced up at Erik. “Are you going to get the children then?”

“Yeah,” Erik said, already heading back to the kitchen to grab his keys. “I’ll be back soon.”

Charles didn’t call after him.

**

Azazel and the kids were still at the diner in the same booth, but Angel had joined them, apparently on her break. Wanda and Pietro were flicking balled up straw wrappers across the table while Lorna colored on a napkin with an old, broken crayon.

“Daddy!” Wanda was the first to spot him, but Pietro got to him first as always and in greeting blew a wet straw wrapper from his straw straight into Erik’s face. Erik didn’t explode on him as they were all expecting. Instead he was imagining this happening to Charles and a smile lifted his lips. This was going to be good.

“Ready to go, guys?” he asked, and the kids nodded. Azazel was watching Erik suspiciously, even as he paid and left Angel a giant tip. He followed Erik out, holding Lorna’s hand as they made their way to Erik’s truck.

“What did you do, Erik? You’ve got that look on your face. You looked like that back in middle school right before you pulled Kitty’s ponytail.”

“I’m a genius,” Erik said. “Just listen.” He stopped at the truck and made sure the children were all looking up at him, paying attention as best they could. “Kids, I’ve found someone to take care of you for awhile.” Azazel’s eyebrows shot up, but the kids just looked up at Erik blankly.

“Who?” Pietro asked.

“A nice omega named Charles,” Erik said, and Azazel’s brows rose even further. “He’d like it if you called him Papa, but if you don’t like it, then we’ll just call him Charles.”

“So he’s like a new Papa?” Wanda asked. “That sounds good. Do you think I could practice my powers on him?”

“Uh, maybe not yet,” Erik said. “But we can talk about it again in a few months.” _When Charles is long gone_ , he added mentally.

“Okay,” Wanda said, and it was just that simple. The kids really didn’t care. They’d moved around a lot and been passed from relative to relative over the years. Hell, they’d spent more days alone at home recently than Erik wanted to admit.

Erik helped them into the truck as Azazel watched silently, his arms crossed.

“Well,” Erik said finally, once the kids were loaded up. “What do you think? Pretty genius way to make him pay, right?”

“He agreed to be your nanny?”

“He, uh,” Erik hedged, “doesn’t exactly remember that he isn’t married to me. He doesn’t remember anything.”

Azazel rubbed at his temples. “So, let me get this straight. You tricked Shaw’s amnesiac omega into being your live-in nanny by telling him he’s mated to _you_?”

“Yes,” Erik said, keeping his face as straight as he could, waiting for Azazel’s judgement. “That’s pretty much it.”

There was a long moment of silence, and then Azazel burst into laughter, clapping Erik on the shoulder, and Erik’s tension deflated all at once. “You’re one fucked up dude, Lehnsherr, but this is hilarious.”

**

Charles tried not to think about how dirty the floor of the shower was as he stood in it, letting the warm water run down his sore body. Apparently he’d suffered no physical damage, but he still felt worn and out and tossed about. He wanted to lie down and rest his aching body, but he’d need to be awake and ready when his kids returned.

Kids. Charles had kids. What kind of a parent forgot about their own kids? He scrubbed a bit roughly at his skin, wondering how this had all happened. How nothing in his very own life was familiar to him. He felt horrible for how badly he’d worried Erik, and now he didn’t even know his own childrens’ names.

He shut off the water, flicking his hair back from his face and stepping out of the shower, searching for a towel. There were three on the floor and none on the rack, so he grabbed one from the floor that was still slightly damp and dried himself as best he could.

He stood in front of the steamy mirror but didn’t even recognize his own reflection. This was him. Charles Lehnsherr, happily mated omega and father of three. He cupped his flat belly, seeing no signs of having carried life but feeling proud nonetheless. There seemed to be an advantage to having children at such a young age as he’d obviously bounced back. Erik must have been pleased. Charles allowed himself a small smile.

He padded down the unfamiliar hallway to the room he assumed was his bedroom and was relieved to find a kingsized bed, a dresser, and a closet full of clothes. He couldn’t tell which clothes belonged to him and which belonged to Erik. In fact, it didn’t seem like they separated clothes at all, which was strange, considering that Erik was quite a bit taller and broader than Charles. Resolving to ask Erik when he got back, Charles pulled on some underwear, a blue shirt that was too wide in the shoulders, and jeans that were too tight in the waist. They no doubt belonged to Erik, who had the smallest waist Charles had ever seen. Not that he remembered very many waists at this point.

Regardless, Erik was painfully attractive, which was obvious because Charles was mated to him, but even without his scent receptors working, Charles’ body had lit up at the sight of Erik and his broad alpha shoulders and strong alpha jaw. Charles sighed a bit wistfully, congratulating himself on a job well done. It was weird being around his husband and not knowing him, but he hoped he’d start remembering things soon now that he was back in his own home.

He heard the roar of Erik’s old truck outside and he took a deep breath, stealing himself. It was time to jump straight into parenthood and while he didn’t feel ready in the slightest, there was no putting it off. He made his way back to the disaster of a living room and watched as Erik herded three kids across the lawn and up the porch. There was a boy with white hair, a girl with brown hair, and another girl with green hair. Mutants, he thought immediately, and Charles realized that he didn’t know if Erik was a mutant or not. It was true that it was perfectly possible for humans to have mutant children, though.

Erik pulled open the screen door and the kids dashed in first. The boy with the white hair moved so quickly he was a blur and then he was standing right before Charles.

“Are you our new Papa?”

“New?” Charles asked, taken aback. “Um, well, I may be a bit different than before so I hope you’ll be patient with me.”

The boy shrugged. “Okay.”

“That’s Pietro,” Erik said, pushing forward the little girl with green hair gently. “And this is Lorna.”

“I’m Wanda,” the other girl said before Erik could, waving at Charles.

“Hello, Pietro, Wanda, Lorna.” Charles offered a small smile to each one of them. He wasn’t sure what he expected -- hugs or tears or hysterics -- but all he got was a hesitant smile from Lorna and shrugs from Wanda and Pietro, who turned to Erik and asked if they could watch TV before dinner.

Erik found them some cartoons and Wanda and Pietro settled on the couch, kicking at each other constantly. Erik took the worn armchair nearby and Lorna crawled up into his lap. Charles stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do, shifting from foot to foot.

“Hey,” Erik said, catching his attention, and Charles smiled, glad to see Erik wanted him to join. “Can you get me a beer?”

“Oh,” Charles said, heart dropping. “Of course.” He went to the kitchen, opening the fridge and his jaw nearly dropped when he saw that it contained only beer, ketchup, and eggs. What were they even eating? He wasn’t a fool. He could tell they didn’t have much money, but this was unacceptable. The kids needed good food. Shaking his head, he brought the beer to Erik and startled as Erik popped the lid off with a glance.

“Did you just--?”

Erik smiled at him, a rather off-putting show of too many teeth that made him look handsome but slightly deranged. “My power.”

“Telekinesis?”

“Metal,” he clarified, turning back the TV.

“What about the kids?” Charles asked.

“Pietro can run fast, Lorna can manipulate metal just like me, and Wanda’s powers are still pretty hard to define. As far as we can tell, it’s a mix of things. One teacher thought it might be probability related.”

“That’s fantastic. We have very powerful children.”

“Be quiet!” Wanda demanded. “I can’t hear!”

“Sorry,” Charles said quickly. There was nowhere for him to sit, so he stood uncomfortably as they fell into silence, the TV show the only sound in the room.

Everyone looked relaxed, like they were settling in for the evening, but Charles was left on the outside. This was his own family and it seemed like… he didn’t have a place in it. Swallowing hard, he thought maybe it would be best to retreat to the bedroom for a moment.

He shut the door behind him and leaned against it, knocking his head on it lightly. God, this was weird. This was so weird. He didn’t know who he was, but more than anything, no one seemed to care. He understood the children were young, and the last thing he wanted to do was resent them for not fully understanding the situation, but it still stung.

There was a knock on the door. “Are you okay?” came Erik’s voice.

Charles quickly pulled open the door, the sight of Erik lifting his spirits and kindling a warmth in his chest. “Yeah, I just… Yes.”

“Good,” Erik said, face neutral. “Make dinner then.”

**

Dinner involved heating up canned soup and having it catapulted at him by Pietro. It was a messy and out of control affair, but Erik didn’t even bother to scold him, leaving it to Charles to be the bad cop. When more of Pietro’s soup ended up on Charles’ shirt than in his mouth, Charles eventually grabbed the spoon from the boy’s hand.

“Give it back!” Pietro whined.

“Only if you’ll be good,” Charles said, trying to bargain.

Pietro reached for the spoon but Charles held out of reach. “I’ll be good.”

“Okay then,” Charles relented, handing it back to him. Not ten seconds later, there was soup on the side of his face again, and everyone but him was laughing.

After dinner, Erik worked Charles like a drill sergeant, telling him how to wash, where to place each plate and spoon, and huffing exasperatedly when Charles did something wrong. After Charles made it through the colossal amount of dishes, Erik ordered him to organize the pantry, lining up each can and box according to Erik’s specific specifications. The kids were in the living room watching TV again, and once in awhile, one would pop into the kitchen to see what was going on, but they were bored with the idea of cleanup and soon wandered off.

Charles was wondering if Erik was going to make him start organizing the boxes of cereal in alphabetic order or by color when he finally worked up the nerve to say, “Erik, I’m tired. Can I go to sleep?”

“Oh,” Erik looked at the clock on the microwave, obviously having lost track of time. “Of course you can. Make sure the kids take a bath first though.”

Charles wanted to groan, but he dutifully asked how bathtime was usually done, and soon enough he had Wanda and Lorna in the bath together, Wanda mercilessly splashing her younger sister as Charles tried to shampoo her green hair.

“Wanda, stop that,” Charles said. “Don’t be mean to your sister.”

“I hate her,” Wanda replied, crossing her arms.

Charles’ jaw dropped. “Now that’s a cruel thing to say. Why in the world would you say that?” He washed the shampoo from Lorna’s hair with the detachable faucet.

“Because I hate her,” Wanda continued stubbornly. Lorna didn’t say a word, silently helping Charles get every bubble from her hair.

Pietro was next and he dashed from the bath multiple times, and Charles had to chase him down and bring him back, slip-sliding across the floors as he did. Erik could have helped, but he didn’t, watching from his armchair by the TV as Pietro ran by. Charles bit back the urge to snap at both his son and his husband.

Finally, bathtime was done, and he presented three clean children to Erik, hoping to gain his approval. Erik didn’t say a word to Charles, taking the kids upstairs to where their beds were set up in the attic without a backward glance. Charles stood hesitantly at the bottom of the stairs wondering if he should follow or not, but Erik came back down soon, stretching his hands high above his head and yawning, his jaw popping.

“Bed time for me too, I think.”

“Thank god,” Charles said, his body nearly a dead weight. “I’m exhausted.”

“Kids are hard, aren’t they?” Erik asked conversationally as they made their way down the hall to their bedroom.

“Yes, I had no idea. Or, well, I can’t remember. I must have known at some point.” He laughed a little awkwardly. Erik pretty much ignored it, peeling off his shirt and folding it carefully even though he was placing it in the dirty clothes hamper. Charles glanced away, his heart skipping a beat as he suddenly realized he and Erik were undressing alone in the dark in a _bedroom_.

He’d had sex with this man many times, obviously, but he was still basically a stranger to Charles now. Charles stared at the long, lean lines of Erik’s back, the taper of his waist, the small dimples right above the band of his jeans. His hands had been all those places and run over that skin. Charles’ cheeks burned. Erik… would he… even though Charles couldn’t remember a thing, would he expect…?

“Erik,” he started slowly, hoping not to offend. “I don’t really know if I feel comfortable sharing the bed…”

“Of course,” Erik said, the smile on his face all teeth and no warmth. “But don’t you remember? You like sleeping on the couch. You said it’s better for your bad back. You haven’t slept in here in ages.”

“Oh.” Charles ran a hand through his hair, willing his blush away. Was that normal? For mated couples to sleep apart? Charles didn’t think so, but he didn’t really know, so he simply said, “That’s good then. I guess I’ll do that.” Erik tossed him a pillow and he caught it, hugging it to his chest. “Um, good night?” he offered, wondering if Erik would come over to give him a good night kiss.

Erik didn’t. He crawled into bed and turned away from Charles without saying a word. Charles stared at Erik’s broad back for a long moment before he retreated from the bedroom to the living room and the depressingly lumpy couch. Sighing, he flopped down on it, covering himself with the throw blanket and wriggling around until he felt semi-comfortable. He didn’t have long to contemplate the discomfort of the couch or his day before he was dropping off.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want everyone to know that writing Erik as a dick is extremely painful for me since I love him so much. I can't wait to try and redeem him (soon!).

Charles woke to small hands shaking him rather hard and cracked his eyes open to find Pietro right in his face. “I’m hungry!”

Charles rolled away to face the back of the couch and pulled the blanket over his head. “Hey!” Pietro called, climbing up onto the couch and jumping around, his foot coming down on Charles’ calf hard enough to hurt. “I wanna eat!”

Charles groaned from underneath his blankets. Yesterday hadn’t been some bizarre nightmare then. This was really happening.

Breakfast was a whirlwind, but at least all the cereal stayed in either bowls or mouths as Wanda and Lorna joined Pietro and Charles in the kitchen. Charles sighed when he saw that it was 7:30 a.m., bemoaning his lack of sleep and his still aching body.

Erik appeared around 8:00, grabbing a piece of toast and stuffing it in his mouth. “I’m off to work.”

“What?” Charles asked, eyes widening. “You’re leaving?”

“Of course,” Erik said, bending down to give each kid a kiss on the top of their heads, but not even coming near Charles. “I’ll be back around six.” He grabbed another slice of toast and Charles watched dismayed as he waltzed out of the kitchen. “Oh, and today’s laundry day!” he called back and then the front door shut and an engine started up and Erik was gone.

Charles looked down at the three children and manfully held back tears.

***

The day was a mess. Charles broke up a screaming match between Wanda and Pietro, managed to scrub the bathroom according to the specifications that Erik had left behind on an unnecessarily long note he’d taped to the mirror, told Wanda off for bad-mouthing Lorna, made sandwiches with hidden bologna he’d discovered in the fridge, and then found that Pietro had colored on the walls while he'd been preoccupied. He went up to the attic for the first time to find a plain room with slanted walls and three beds lined up neatly with a dresser. Unsure of what was dirty or not, he scooped up all the clothes he could find and carried them downstairs carefully since his feet were out of sight and it would be all too easy to trip.

He asked Lorna where the washing machine was and she led him outside and across the lawn to the garage, where he discovered there was indeed a machine, but also that it didn’t work. He ordered the kids to play outside where he could see and ended up filling the machine with soapy water and washing the clothes by hand as best he could. It was hard work, and his arms tired quickly, but the thought of Erik coming home and looking at him with a disappointed frown spurred him on.

He heard Lorna crying partway through and dropped the shirt he was working on, hurrying outside to find that she was on the ground with a scraped knee.

“Are you alright?” he asked, kneeling to her level. She bit her quivering lower lip. “Guess not. Come on, darling. Let’s go clean that up and get a bandaid.” She nodded, offering her hand, and Charles helped her up, leading her inside. It wasn’t until he had her nicely patched up that she told him that Wanda had pushed her.

Charles was still washing clothes when Erik returned, the sound of the engine of Magneto reaching the house long before the old truck actually did. Erik greeted the kids with hugs, ignoring Charles where he was hanging clothes along the clotheslines strung between the house and the garage. The four of them went inside, chatting happily with each other, and Charles was left outside alone. He glanced up at the blue sky and took a long, deep breath. Biting back his hurt, he continued to hang the clothes.

Erik ordered Charles to make macaroni and cheese for the kids but somehow even with Erik micromanaging his every move, he was apparently adding the butter in an unsatisfactory manner and Erik took the spoon from him with a grumble, nudging Charles out of the way. They ate dinner filled with chatter between the kids and Erik, and Charles eventually tried to participate, asking Erik about his day. Erik gave him a terse, “It was fine,” and went back to listening to Wanda babble about a grasshopper she’d tried to trap.

After dinner, Erik declared he was going out and left without even a wave goodbye.

He didn’t come back until after the children were in bed, and Charles was already curled up on the old couch. Charles’ pulse picked up as Erik’s footsteps made their way towards the couch, but there was no pause and they continued on down the hallway and into the bedroom. Charles swallowed back the sudden lump in his throat and squeezed his eyes shut.

A week passed, just like this. Erik was even working on Saturday and Sunday, leaving Charles to deal with the kids and their constant fighting and bullying of not only each other but also him. Erik spent most nights out, but even when he stayed in, he paid Charles little to no attention except when he wanted to scold his cleaning methods or to demand another beer.

One night, Charles knocked on the bedroom door, unsure of his welcome, but Erik looked up from his laptop whirring loudly on his lap, obviously old and on its last legs. “What do you need, Charles?”

“Do you have a moment? It’s about the kids.”

Erik set his laptop aside, motioning to the end of the bed. Charles came into the bedroom and gingerly took a seat down by Erik’s feet. He felt no more at ease with Erik than he had a week ago, perhaps even more nervous now. He couldn’t tell what his husband was thinking but he got the impression it was rarely about Charles, and when it was, it was mostly about his shortcomings. He didn’t even look at Charles most of the time, and even when their eyes met, Charles felt Erik was staring right through him.

“Pietro’s a bully,” Charles started haltingly, but Erik just nodded for him to go on. “Wanda is too, but she seems to target Lorna specifically, and she can be quite cruel. I’m thinking of trying to implement some new ways of disciplining them. What do you think? Did we do something before? If we did, it doesn’t seem to be helping.”

“Ah, no,” Erik said, crossing his arms over his chest. “We mostly let things sort themselves out. We didn’t have a lot of time to deal with it.”

“Back when we lived in the city, you mean? I just let them run wild like animals there too?” Charles joked, but Erik didn’t look amused, so he hurried on. “I’m just especially worried about Wanda and Lorna. Do you remember when that started?”

Erik’s eyes went a bit distant and he bit his bottom lip. It was obviously his thinking face, and Charles found it quite charming, though honestly everything Erik did was rather handsome. “There was one time she asked about Ma--” Erik cut off abruptly, coughing.

“About what?” Charles pressed. “She says awful things, Erik. It makes me think she resents Lorna or something. Did one of us spend more time with Lorna than her? Or maybe she just perceived it that way?”

“No.” Erik shook his head. “It might be more about me though,” he said cryptically.

“Could you please explain?” Charles asked, a bit exasperated. “You’ve lost me.”

“I’ll talk to her.” Erik picked up his laptop and tapped the mousepad, waking it from sleep. It was a clear dismissal, and Charles glanced away for a moment to compose himself, his jaw clenching.

Forcing calm into his voice, he said, “You can’t just make a unilateral decision. You need to discuss this with me.”

“They’re my children,” Erik said, eyes on the screen. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Well, they’re my children too,” Charles snapped, his voice rising more than he’d wanted it to, “and I want to help them, but my husband is entirely absent and won’t even speak to me unless it’s to tell me I messed up, and I’m stuck here in my own house with my own family, begging for scraps!”

Erik was watching him with narrowed eyes, and it was rather intimidating, reminding Charles that even though he was married to this man, in his current position, he knew almost nothing about him. “I’m sorry you feel that way,” he said evenly.

Charles wanted to scream. He wanted to throw something. He wanted…he wanted…he wanted Erik to acknowledge his existence, to stop treating him like furniture and start treating him like a mate. How had they lived like this all these years?

“I’m sorry…I just…I don’t know anymore,” Charles said. His pulse was pounding loudly enough to echo in his ears. He took a chance, reaching out to lay a gentle hand on Erik’s ankle, feeling the warmth of his skin.

Erik jerked his foot away, and the rejection hit Charles like a blow to the chest. His fingers balled into a fist, flexing, and he took a deep, shuddering breath as he stood from the bed.

He made it all the way to the door before Erik called his name, but he ignored it, pushing on until he reached the safety of his couch, curling up under his thin blanket and burying his face in his pillow.

***

Erik and Azazel were out on a new build. Azazel was a skilled electrician, even without the help of a mutation well suited for it like Erik’s, but Azazel was also red and had a tail and few customers felt comfortable enough allowing him into their homes. That left him mostly working phones or projects like this where the home was still a half-finished skeleton and there were no delicate humans around to intimidate.

Erik was working on the copper wiring when Azazel’s tail flicked, signalling that he was about to speak.

“So how’s married life treating you?”

“Very funny,” Erik said, manipulating the wire to his will. “My lovely mate is even more useful than I thought he’d be.”

“Just for the record,” Azazel said, “I want you to know that I still think this is another one of your stupid, impulsive, fucked up decisions. But, I also think you’re kind of an evil genius.”

Erik snorted, floating his pliers to his hands. “You know, I thought he’d be more resistant, but he’s well trained.” A little too well, if Erik was being honest. Not only was Charles pretty and built perfectly with the lush ass and hips expected of an omega, but he was an ideal servant, barely talking back and taking Erik’s orders pretty much lying down. Erik didn’t pursue the line of thought any farther, having no desire to think about how Shaw had used that obedience.

Azazel disappeared with a pop and reappeared a moment later, holding another coil of wire. “So how long are you going to keep this up then? Shouldn’t he remember something by now?”

“I don’t know,” Erik said honestly. “But I’m finally working enough to semi-support the family, someone’s watching the kids, and my house is clean. I don’t have a single complaint.”

“You don’t worry then?”

“Why would I worry?” Erik asked with a frown.

“About your kids being with a stranger,” Azazel prompted.

Erik stopped laying the wire. “No,” he said slowly, realizing it was true. “I don’t worry. He thinks those kids are his kids, and it’s obvious he’d protect them.” _Or even yell at me when he’s worried about them _,__ Erik mentally added. “Must be some omega hormone thing. I’ve heard they’re perfectly suited to child-rearing.”

“In that case, live it up.” Azazel used his tail to grab a tool from the box. “Are you coming to the meeting tonight? I think Theresa said she’s got good news.”

“I’ll be there,” Erik said. “After all, I’ve got a free babysitter.”

__***__

Charles wasn’t even sure what day it was anymore. Erik was gone, the kids were in a foul mood, and it was so hot outside in the garage where Charles slaved away over the laundry that dizziness overtook him more than once and he had to take a rest.

Erik had been annoyed with him that morning, telling Charles to take off the shirt he was wearing because it was Erik’s favorite and not meant to be shared. When Charles had suggested perhaps he should be allowed to buy his own clothes, Erik had vetoed it, reminding Charles that money was tight.

He’d cleaned the bathroom after Erik had left, scrubbing the tub as hard as he could to release stress, and Pietro had dashed into the room, jumping on Charles’ back. Charles had overbalanced and hit his head on the faucet and was now sporting a fantastic bruise right below his left eye. Pietro hadn’t even apologized, fleeing from the scene of the crime, and Charles had dragged himself to the kitchen, pulling out a popsicle and pressing it to the tender skin.

He heard the sound of a car approaching but it wasn’t the stuttering engine of Magneto. He stood from where he’d been lounging against the largest tree in their front yard, wondering who it could possibly be.

A woman with shoulder length hair drove up in a blue car, parking close by to where he stood and climbing out. She looked official and clean, and Charles felt even more dumpy than usual in his oversized clothes covered in patches of sweat.

“Hello,” he called, and the woman was looking at him strangely, as if unsure just what he was doing here. “Can I help you?”

“Ah, yes, hello, I’m Moira MacTaggert from the local elementary school and I’m looking for Erik Lehnsherr.”

“Oh, my husband’s not home,” Charles said, dusting off a bit of grass from his behind.

“Your husband?” Moira asked. “When I was here last week, he didn’t mention you at all.”

“Oh,” Charles said, his shoulders slumping. “Well, nice to meet you. I’m Charles Lehnsherr.”

Her eyes caught on his cheek, and her lips thinned out into a line. “Are you having any problems?”

Charles reached up, lightly brushing the bruised skin. “No, no, I just had a fall in the bathroom earlier, it’s not--” He realized how bad it all looked and sounded. “It’s not what you’re thinking, but I appreciate the support.”

Moira’s fierce gaze didn’t soften, but she seemed willing to accept this for now. “Were you aware that your husband was leaving the children alone for hours at a time?”

“What? No! When?”

“I was here about a week and a half ago…”

“I was in the hospital. I had an accident.”

Moira’s eyes widened in recognition. “You’re the one on the news.”

Charles ducked his head. “Yes, that was me. I’m having some memory problems, but I assure you, I’m taking good care of the children.”

Moira’s whole demeanor softened then. “I’m sorry to hear that. You must be feeling very overwhelmed right now.”

“I -- yes,” Charles’ eyes were suddenly stinging. It was the first time since he’d left the hospital that someone had acknowledged that he might be having difficulty. “It’s been hard.”

“School starts next month, so hopefully you’ll get more time to rest and recover with the kids out of the house.”

“It does? Thank god,” Charles said, not even bothering to hide his relief. “I think the kids are bored to death here.”

As if summoned, Wanda burst out of the front door and Pietro was right on her heels. He caught up to her easily and they both tumbled to the ground, Wanda throwing punches and Pietro yanking her hair.

“Hey!” Charles called, jogging over to them, pulling Pietro off of his sister. “What is wrong with you two?” Pietro struggled in Charles’ hold, kicking him hard in the knee and Charles dropped him with a yelp. Wanda and Pietro giggled at the sight of Charles bent over in pain and then dashed off across the yard, getting into a game of tag.

Lorna had come out onto the porch at some point in the scuffle, and obviously mimicking her siblings, she jumped down and tried to punch Charles in the thigh. He caught her small wrist before it could connect with skin. “No.”

Moira watched the whole interaction with a brow raised, and Charles squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, wishing he could be invisible. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” he said.

But Moira didn’t look like she was judging, if anything she looked at Charles with a forehead creased in pity. “You look like you’ve got your hands full.”

“Yeah,” Charles said, releasing Lorna. She sat down by him and started pulling up dandelions from the grass. “Sometimes I wonder what the hell I’m doing.”

“You know what? Hold that thought.” She briskly walked back to her car, leaning across the seat and picking up something from the passenger side. She waved the book toward Charles as she returned, handing it over to him. “It’s a parenting book. I don’t have any kids myself, but as an elementary school teacher, I’ve found it pretty helpful.”

Charles gazed down at the cover, a happy couple on the front with their daughter tucked between them. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

“Chapter three is about discipline,” Moira added with a smile. “It might be just what you need.”

Charles didn’t have time to read the book. Erik was extremely demanding that evening, pushing Charles to launder the bedding which took a lot of strength and endurance when it all needed to be done by hand.

Erik was carrying out another load of sheets to drop at Charles’ feet when Charles mentioned that Moira had stopped by.

“What did she want?” he asked, kicking at the sheets.

“She came to check on the kids. She said...” Charles paused, gritting his teeth as he tried to wring as much water as he could from the comforter. “She said she needed to make sure we weren’t leaving the kids home alone.” Charles turned pleading eyes on Erik. “Tell me we never do that, Erik.”

“Of course we don’t,” Erik said dismissively, eyeing what Charles was doing, but not offering to help.

“Then what was she--” The words died off as Erik’s hand cupped Charles’ chin, turning his face so that Erik could see it more clearly. Charles blinked up at him, barely daring to breathe as Erik studied his cheek. “What happened?”

“I fell while cleaning the bath,” he answered, voice small.

Erik’s thumb gently ghosted over the bruised skin. He opened his mouth to speak, shut it, opened it again, and finally said gruffly, “Be careful.”

Charles nodded, his throat too dry to speak.

***

Three weeks after his accident, Erik dropped Charles off at the hospital for his follow up appointment with Dr. McCoy. Erik had taken the morning off for this and was grumbling about it the whole way, annoyed that he’d lost a chance at an easy paycheck at a nearby nursing home having trouble with flickering lights. Charles bit the inside of his cheek and didn’t snap at Erik for caring more about one small job than making sure his mate was healthy.

Dr. McCoy looked pleased to see him, and Charles was glad to see him too. He was a familiar blue face in an unfamiliar world. After a quick physical and some scans, they settled down in Dr. McCoy’s office to talk.

“Well, Charles,” he said, flipping through his chart. “As far as I can tell, there are no problems. But how are you feeling? Any memories returning?”

“No, unfortunately not,” he said. “Nothing’s managed to jog it.”

Dr. McCoy frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that. How about scent?”

Charles tapped his nose. “Still not much, but I think a little bit is returning. The home is starting to smell like, well, home to me.”

“That’s good, that’s good.” He jotted down a few notes. “And you and your mate, how often are you scenting?”

Charles shifted in his chair. “We don’t.”

Dr. McCoy glanced up from his chart. “Pardon me?”

“We don’t,” Charles repeated. “At all.”

Dr. McCoy pulled off his glasses and set them down. “Charles, mated couples scent at least once a day and those who have been through traumas tend to feel the compulsion to do it even more often. I know your scent receptors are damaged but the simple act of scenting and simulating it with your mate should be a top priority for you two.”

“Erik, he--” Charles stopped, hesitant to lay the entire blame on Erik. Dr. McCoy was watching him encouragingly, though, so Charles continued, “Erik doesn’t seem to be interested in it.”

Dr. McCoy just nodded, betraying no surprise or judgment. “Is he having other performance issues as well?”

Charles blinked at him.

“In the bedroom, I mean.”

Charles blushed fiercely. “Oh, we-- we haven’t--”

The doctor held up a hand to silence Charles’ stuttering. “Charles, this is all rather unhealthy. I’m assuming he’s holding off in deference to you and the fact that you don’t currently remember him, but he is your mate and biologically, omegas are soothed and comforted by the presence and hormones of their alpha. There’s really no excuse for not at least scenting.” He slid his glasses back on, returning to writing on the chart. “I’m going to recommend it twice a day.”

“I’m not sure--”

“No arguments, Charles. This will help you both. If you don’t think he’ll agree to it, I’ll talk to him.”

Cowed, Charles nodded.

After Erik arrived to pick him up, Charles watched as Dr. McCoy pulled him aside. The kids were in the truck, bouncing up and down on the backseat, passing Erik’s sunglasses back and forth between them. Erik’s jaw tensed as he listened to whatever Dr. McCoy was saying, and Charles felt his stomach sink.

What did all of this even mean? He hadn’t even thought of the fact that Erik didn’t scent him. He remembered learning in school about omegas and alphas, how they were made for each other, two sides of the same coin. It was frustrating that he could remember those lessons but not who he was or where he’d learned them. It was even more frustrating to have more evidence shoved in his face that his mate had zero interest in him, scent or otherwise.

The drive home was filled with chatter from the kids about school starting soon, and Erik answered them patiently but didn’t say a word to Charles, seemingly preferring to ignore his existence.

After they arrived home, Erik didn’t even get out of the truck, watching as Charles and the kids unloaded and then shifting the gear into reverse.

“Wait!” Charles said, rushing to the driver’s side window. “You’re leaving?”

“I have plans,” Erik said flatly.

“Erik, about what Dr. McCoy said--”

“I’m going to be late,” Erik said, cutting him short. “I don’t have time for this.”

Charles bit his lip and stepped back from the truck, his shoulders slumping as he watched Erik drive out of sight.

Not even ten minutes after he was gone, Wanda pushed Lorna off of the porch and Charles tried to scold her, telling her that she couldn’t hit her sister.

“I hate you!” she screamed, running down the porch steps and grabbing a rock.

“Wanda--” Charles started to warn, but she threw it at him as hard as she could. He flung his hands up to stop it from hitting him in the face, and that’s when Pietro slammed into the back of his knees, knocking Charles’ legs out from under him. He fell to the ground, hitting the wood hard on his shoulder and hip, and Wanda dashed up to him, bent right down in his face and said, “Idiot!” before running off. Lorna, who had watched the entire exchange from where she’d fallen into the grass, stood up and simply walked away.

Charles stayed where he was, curled up on the floor of his rotting wooden porch, knocking his head lightly against the wood repeatedly.

He hated it. He hated his life. He didn’t know what he’d done wrong or what kind of father or husband he’d been, but it couldn’t have been good. His mate didn’t want him, his children despised and bullied him, he spent every day working his ass off with no thanks or acknowledgment, and there was no end in sight. No finish line waiting to make his suffering worth it. Hot tears slid down his cheeks and over his nose, and for the first time, he wondered if maybe it would have been better if he’d drowned after all.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you all for all of your amazing comments, so thank you for the endless motivation! It appears that the general consensus is that Erik deserves either a punch or a kick to the nuts.

Charles sobbed until his eyes were burning and his throat was sore and scratchy. Finally he dragged himself up from the floor and made his way inside the house. He guzzled down a glass of water, soothing his parched throat and finally stopping the very last of his tears. It felt good to let it all out, but it wasn’t going to change anything. No, if he wanted things to change, he was going to have to do it himself, and damn it, he was going to do it. He’d been trying to fit himself back into the life he’d had before but it was like trying to finish a puzzle with the wrong piece; no matter how many times he tried to mash it in, it was never going to snap into place.

He was meant to be here, of course, in a sense, but just because there was a certain way they’d always done things as a family didn’t mean it was the only way for them to be done. And Charles was positive now that whatever they’d been doing hadn’t been working at all. Charles’ children were complete nightmares, his house was a mess and run by Erik who was a tyrant but utterly clueless, and his marriage was falling to pieces. He could accept it or he could fix it.

He marched to the bathroom, splashing cool water on his face until most of the red was gone from his eyes, and then smoothed down his hair. He stared at himself in the mirror, noting the dark circles under his eyes and the paleness of his blotchy face and promised himself this was the beginning of something new.

He dug the book Moira had given him out from where it was buried between the cushions in the couch and located chapter three. He glanced out the window, checking that the kids were still in sight and then he began to read, his eyes flying over the pages faster than he knew was possible. Absorbing the information was simple, as easy as breathing to him, and he finished the chapter in less than twenty minutes. He lowered the book, wondering if perhaps reading had been a passion of his, but he dismissed the idle thought. He needed to concentrate. He closed his eyes and built a mental plan based on what the book had said, accounting for the children’s ages and complete lack of respect.

With a plan, he felt in control for the first time, and he stomped out onto the porch with confidence, spotting the kids across the yard sticking grass into each other’s hair. He took a deep breath and unleashed.

“Pietro! Wanda! Lorna! Get over here now!” The kids froze in their movements, turning wide eyes on Charles, shocked by the steel in his voice. “Now!”

They stood up, making their way to the porch but Charles told them to stop before they began to climb the steps. The extra added height gave him an advantage that he wanted to keep.

“We’re going to be changing rules around here,” he started, and Pietro opened his mouth, but Charles silenced him with a _look_ , just like the book had suggested. Firm voice, firm look.

He held up a finger. “Rule number one: no hitting or insults. If you hit or insult anyone, you get a warning. If you continue, you get a five minute time-out and lose TV time for the day. Rule number two: listen when I ask you to do something. If you don’t, the consequences will be the same. Rule number three: do your chores. I’m giving each one of you a list of chores to be done each day. If you do them, you’ll get my thanks and dessert after dinner. If you don’t, you won’t get it.” He carefully showed them his three fingers. “Do you understand these rules?”

They were looking at him warily, the hard tone of his voice obviously throwing them off. “Do you understand?” he repeated.

“Yes,” Lorna said, but she was the least amount of trouble.

“Sounds dumb,” Pietro said.

“That’s an insult, Pietro. You have your one warning.”

He rocked on his heels, unsure.

“We’re going to repeat the rules, then,” Charles said. “Repeat after me.” He held up his first finger again. “Rule number one: no hitting or insults.” They stared blankly at him. “I’m about to give you all a warning right now, and this would be Pietro’s second, so he’ll end up in time-out. I asked you to do something, and you didn’t.” They sent wary glances at each other. “So now let’s try this again. Rule number one: no hitting or insults.”

And amazingly, though it was mulish, all three of them repeated the rules back.

***

Erik stood outside of the old YMCA with their group, discussing the options and what was fixable and not. Mrs. Pryde, though she’d implored him to call her Theresa so he was trying to adjust to that, was leading the way as usual. She and Erik’s mother had actually been friends all those years ago when they’d lived here, and when she’d heard that Erik was back in town, she’d reached out to him immediately, eager to have him join in on their project. Their group was small, but dedicated -- Theresa, Angel, Azazel, a carpenter named Logan, and Alex and Armando, a mated pair. They were all mutants or parents of one, and were determined to turn the town’s old abandoned YMCA into a mutant youth center.

When Erik had first heard the proposal, he’d thought it was a pipe dream, something idle that an older lady had dreamed up, but he heard how far Theresa had gotten through her contacts at the state level and that she’d secured support from multiple state representatives and even funding from the National Mutant Rights Foundation’s state branch. The main obstacle was, as usual, something much more mundane.

They needed approval from the local city council which was populated mostly by old human white men who didn’t even want to acknowledge that mutants existed, much less give them a gathering place. To add to their troubles, another local group was challenging them for the building, hoping to tear it down and convert it into a commercial property. The city still owned the land, so it was completely up to the council, and all would be decided at the next town hall meeting, at which Theresa and their opponent William Stryker would be called up to testify and plead their case. They needed three votes out of the five to win, and Erik wasn’t feeling optimistic.

Theresa was still talking, so Erik tuned back in. “The tile is still usable, so we’ll leave that in the lobby, but the wood of the gym floor is completely rotted out and will need to be replaced.” Armando was crouched on the ground, his laptop balanced on his knees as he furiously typed away. He was the most dedicated note taker Erik had ever seen, and each of their meetings was thoroughly documented and later sent out to a mailing list.

“I have guys who have offered to help take care of the flooring and installation,” Logan said. “That won’t be a problem.”

“That’s great.” Theresa gave him an enthusiastic smile. “And Erik, you’re still sure you can manage with the electrical? We don’t want to put a strain on your family.”

“It’s fine,” Erik replied, determined that his kids would have a place to fit in that he never had. “I’ll make it happen.”

Theresa’s grateful smile reminded him painfully of his mother’s. They continued to talk and plan, hoping they could put this all together into a coherent enough presentation to sway the council to their side.

The sun was nearly down when they finally finished and Erik climbed into Magneto, taking his time on the drive home. Worrying over the mutant center had kept him preoccupied through the whole afternoon and evening, but now he was alone and his thoughts were creeping in again.

Dr. McCoy had scolded him, asking him why the hell he hadn’t been scenting his distraught and amnesiac mate, and Erik didn’t have a word he could say in return.

_He’s not mine. I didn’t put that bite on the back of his neck. I don’t even want to touch him._

Probably not what the doctor wanted to hear.

Would scenting help Charles even if Erik wasn’t his alpha? Erik had tried to look it up, but it was a taboo question to ask -- _Who would be scenting an omega who wasn’t their own?_ the website had asked. _If you’re going to go that far, get a chemical divorce instead._ At least he was able to confirm he wouldn’t have to worry about Charles going into heat. Only his true mate could trigger that.

The mere thought of Shaw had his hands tightening on the steering wheel, but each passing day was another reminder that Charles wasn’t Shaw. Charles wasn’t anything like Shaw at all. In fact, he wasn’t even anything like the spoiled omega Erik had met on the yacht, which didn’t make any sense. What had happened to that bitchy, hateful creature?

Erik could admit to himself now that he didn’t hate Charles. Well, he didn’t hate this version of him at least. Charles had certainly made up for his debt and more since he’d come, and frankly, Erik had thought the whole ruse would be up by now. Punishing Charles had lost its charm, and Erik didn’t want to admit it, but he was starting to think... maybe... _he_ was the bad guy.

It wasn’t a great feeling.

He pulled into his usual parking spot outside of the house, turning off Magneto and making his way to the door. He found Charles and the kids in the kitchen. Wanda and Lorna were at the table eating while Pietro sat in a chair in the corner.

“What--” he started, but Pietro had already jumped from the chair and was across the room at Erik’s feet.

“He’s mean!”

“Pietro, you left time out early and now your time is reset. Get back in the chair,” Charles said in a voice that meant business. Even the hairs on the back of Erik’s neck stood at attention.

“No!” Pietro cried as Charles took his hand and led him back to the chair, picking up the nearby egg timer and turning it back.

"Five minutes starts now.”

Charles went back to eating as if nothing had happened while Pietro sulked in the corner and Erik stood watching, hands hanging limply by his sides. He caught sight of something new on the wall, a large piece of cardboard covered in neat loopy letters.

The Rules:  
Rule #1: No hitting or insults  
Rule #2: Listen to what Papa and Dad say  
Rule #3: Do your chores

And below that was a handmade calendar complete with chores and names filled in, the kids’ names messy and obviously scrawled by their own hands.

“If you want something to eat, hurry and have it now. Wanda’s going to be helping me with the dishes, so I’d like to get them done before her bedtime,” Charles said to Erik in the same authoritative voice he’d used on Pietro. “Also, you and I are going to talk this evening,”

“Um, okay,” Erik said, sitting down and joining them and wondering just what the hell was going on.

After the kids were finished bathing and were ready for bed, Erik followed them up to the attic to tuck them in. He stumbled on the stairs when he noticed Charles was right behind him.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Saying goodnight to my kids like any normal parent,” Charles shot back, not with malice but not exactly kindly either. “Why you wouldn’t let me before is beyond me, but I’m going to read them this--” Charles held up a picture book that Erik hadn’t seen in years. “--and then I’m going to kiss them goodnight.”

Charles reminded Erik of a cat, back arched and hissing, and Erik saw no reason to fight him on this when the kids were less than ten feet away. He shrugged and continued up the stairs, ducking his head as he entered the low attic.

The kids weren’t the biggest fans of Charles at the moment and were watching him with suspicion, and Erik was glad to see he wasn’t the only one confused by the change.

They warmed to him rather quickly, though, when he sat on the end of Lorna’s bed and started reading a story about a princess fighting in a fantasy world, adopting different voices for each character. He was rather good, Erik could admit, and he studied Charles carefully, trying to figure out what game he was playing, what exactly he was after.

After the kids dropped off to sleep, Charles and Erik snuck back downstairs and made their way to the bedroom in silence. Once the door was closed behind them, Erik turned on Charles, crossing his arms. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”

“Our kids are out of control, Erik. I’ve instituted a new discipline plan and I need you to back me up on this. You saw the rules in the kitchen, right? It’s simple.” Charles was speaking strongly, standing with his shoulders back and his head held high. Erik had never seen him like this, not even that day on the yacht when he’d been drunk and argumentative.

“Okay.” Erik didn’t see the point in arguing. He knew he’d been lax with his kids, and nothing Charles was doing seemed extreme. “I’ll back you up on this.”

“Good,” Charles said. “That’s not all though. From now on, you are responsible for either Wanda and Lorna’s or Pietro’s bath, and you will be home in time every night to do it. You can’t just go off doing whatever it is you’re doing and ignore your family. Spend some time bonding with your kids.”

Erik opened his mouth to answer, but Charles wasn’t finished. “And the trash is your responsibility. I’ll sort it and leave it in the kitchen, but you need to take it out to the curb. And when you’re home or have a day off, I’m not bringing you a single goddamn beer, you got it? You want a beer, you go get your own.” Steel had seeped into Charles’ voice, obviously strengthened and bolstered by anger, but he was still speaking calmly.

Erik, overwhelmed, simply said, “Yes.”

“Right.” Charles wiped his palms on his jeans. “You’re also going to hand over your earnings to me. I’m going to budget everything we need for the household, including food and utilities, and then I’ll give you your spending money for the week. I’ll also be taking over grocery shopping duties since you have no idea what you’re doing, so I’ll need the truck one night a week.”

“Wait, what? Hold on--”

“This isn’t a discussion, Erik.” Charles was glaring up at him fiercely, the lines of his small body tense. “This is what we are going to do, or I’m taking the children and moving out.”

Panic rose in Erik’s chest. His mind was reeling as he tried to figure out what the hell had happened to his timid omega servant. Shaw would never have put up with--

Erik shut that thought down viciously.

“I don’t know what our relationship was like before my accident, but I refuse to be treated this way any longer.” An angry flush rose on Charles’ cheeks. “I’m your husband, not your servant,” he snapped. “We’re mated, so I must have loved you but I’m not seeing a single reason for it right now.”

Erik winced.

“We need to get our relationship back on track, or I’m gone.” Charles faltered slightly here, his gaze dropping to Erik’s chest. “I know Dr. McCoy spoke to you, and I know it’s been strained between us, but we’re going to scent twice a day, morning and evening, and I am _not_ spending another night on that couch.”

“That’s--”

“Do I make myself clear?” Charles’ gaze met Erik’s again, his blue eyes focused and intent, brokering no argument.

“Yes,” Erik said, feeling thoroughly chastened for the first time since his mother had passed away.

Charles looked pleased, but he shifted slightly. “I need to ask you something, and I want you to answer me honestly. Do you--” His voice wavered, and this more than anything made Erik hold his tongue and really listen. He watched as Charles took a deep breath and tried again. “I know I’m different than before but... do you love me?”

Erik’s stomach dropped. Charles’ eyes were searching his with a fragile sort of hope, looking for the answer he obviously so badly wanted, and the sight hit Erik hard.

Fighting down his sudden nausea with a heavy swallow, Erik looked right past Charles’ ear and tried to give an evasive answer. “I’m not sure who you are now. It makes things difficult.”

“I understand,” Charles said, voice gone soft, and Erik hoped that was the end of it. Unfortunately, it wasn’t. “Do you want to work on things between us?” His voice was hesitant, but his hands had balled into fists. “Do you want to save this marriage, Erik?”

Erik still couldn’t make himself look directly into Charles’ eyes. “I do,” he lied.

Charles relaxed minutely, his clenched fists loosening. “Then we’ve got something to work with after all.”

***

Erik offered to let Charles shower first, but he insisted Erik go, so Erik grabbed his sweatpants and retreated to the bathroom, glad to have a moment to gather his thoughts.

He stepped into the hot spray and tried to find the usual calm that came with his nightly shower, but it was elusive.

He’d been ambushed. He knew he’d been treating Charles like crap, but being confronted by a hurt, angry Charles was downright unfair. Erik didn’t want to feel bad for him, and now he did. This was supposed to have been funny, and now it wasn’t. He preferred thinking of Charles purely as Shaw’s omega, so it was rather inconvenient to be reminded that he was a living, breathing, feeling human being.

Erik scrubbed roughly at his chest.

He needed to find some way to end this whole thing. There were only a few more weeks left until school, and that would make life much, much easier for Erik. He’d be limited to doing jobs during school hours, but he wouldn’t be in danger of CPS coming around and finding his kids home alone. Charles wouldn’t be necessary anymore. Right after the kids got on the bus for their first day, he could just tell him he’d been played and send him on his way, and it would be a nice, clean ending to his revenge.

He rinsed the last of the shampoo from his hair and stepped out of the shower. He rubbed the steam off of the mirror so he could stare at his own reflection, and his rather tired eyes stared back at him. He was tempted to ask himself again just what the hell he was doing, but no, best to focus on what was happening immediately first.

Erik had never been with an omega and knew very little about scenting. He’d seen it in porn, of course, and it always lead into backbreaking, kinky sex, but he also knew porn wasn’t exactly concerned with realism. From what he understood from his hazy memories of high school health class, the websites he’d browsed recently, and Dr. McCoy’s lecture, it was more of a comforting intimate experience than a sexual one. He wasn’t looking forward to it, but he could handle it. He’d placate Charles with it tonight, going through the motions, and then beg off of it as much as possible from now on, doing it just enough to keep him from snapping on Erik again. Charles was rather unexpectedly intimidating when he wanted to be.

Feeling confident with his plan of action, he brushed his teeth and didn’t bother to shave, deciding his amount of stubble was acceptable for another day. When he was pulling on his sweatpants, he noticed he’d forgotten his shirt in the bedroom. Shrugging, he stepped out into the hall and headed back to the bedroom, towel-drying his hair as he went.

Charles was there folding laundry, and he glanced up as Erik came in. His eyes locked onto Erik’s bare chest and he dropped the t-shirt he was holding. Blushing, he tore his gaze away, picking the shirt back up and staring at it so intently as he refolded it that Erik couldn’t help a small smile.

“Shower’s free,” he said, even further amused to see Charles startle at the sound of his voice.

“Thank you. I’ll be quick.” He picked up the pair of Erik’s pajamas he’d been using and started heading to the door before pausing, turning back, and picking up the shirt he’d just folded. He threw it at Erik. “Put a shirt on.”

Erik let his smile stretch wider. “Yes, dear.”

Charles snorted and left, calling back, “And finish folding the clothes!”

Erik’s smile fell. He thought about ignoring the order before dismissing it as a bratty move, and he set to folding the laundry as best he could. He got a little too into it, excited to see that he could fold much more cleanly and efficiently than Charles had managed. He was refolding the clothes Charles had already folded when Charles came back. He caught what Erik was doing and hissed something about OCD before throwing his clothes and used towel into the hamper with too much force.

“Well,” Charles said, planting his hands on his hips. “How should we do this?” Erik could see instantly that it was false nonchalance. He’d only put his hands on his hips because they’d been shaking.

Erik stood and began putting the clothes away, stalling for time. “We, uh, usually do it sitting up.” Yes, that sounded good. No need to make this sexy. “You preferred it that way.”

Charles frowned but didn’t seem inclined to question, and Erik let out a breath, glad for that at least. He closed the last drawer and crossed the room, sitting down on the bed with his back leaning against the headboard.

Charles simply stood watching him, his damp hair falling into his face making him look even prettier and younger than usual.

Erik waited, feeling a bit awkward. This was Charles’ idea, so why was he the one hesitating? Maybe he could get out of this after all. “Charles, if you don’t feel comfortable with this--”

“No,” Charles interrupted, his brow tilting into a determined line. “We’re doing this.” He climbed onto the end of the bed, starting to crawl his way toward Erik, but he stopped when he got to Erik’s feet.

Erik watched him carefully, but he wasn’t moving, just staring down at Erik’s ankle and biting his lip. “Come here,” Erik tried. Charles glanced up at him, but still didn’t budge. Erik tapped the bed on both sides of his hips and repeated, “Up here.”

Charles started to move again, crawling on all fours up Erik’s body, and Erik desperately reminded himself that there was nothing sexy about this situation. Charles was careful not to touch Erik anywhere, but he was close enough now, so Erik motioned jerkily to his neck. “Go ahead.”

Charles leaned forward a bit more, but he nearly lost his balance.

“This is weird,” he said, echoing Erik’s thoughts. Without warning, he got up onto his knees, shuffled a bit farther forward and sat straddling Erik’s thighs. He was a warm solid weight, his ass and thighs plush compared to Erik’s own lean body. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah.” Erik’s voice sounded strange in his own ears. “That’s fine.”

Charles brought his hands up and gingerly laid them on Erik’s chest. His hair brushed Erik’s cheek as he bent, and then Erik could feel Charles’ quick breaths against the sensitive skin of his neck. Erik stayed very still, and eventually Charles’ breathing slowed to something deeper and longer, and his weight leaned more heavily against Erik. Erik stiffened, placing his hands on Charles’ hips to keep him from pressing their bodies together.

“Can you smell anything?” Erik asked, wondering if this would be the moment his lie was discovered.

“Barely,” Charles replied, his voice thick. “But I smell alpha.” He took another long, deep inhale, his nose pressing lightly to Erik’s skin.

Erik had been breathing through his mouth and keeping his breaths shallow, but it was hard with Charles so close, and he took a small experimental sniff. His hands tightened on Charles’ hips. God, it was tempting to get more of it into his lungs, but that way laid madness, so he carefully faked taking a deep breath, breathing air out through his mouth and onto Charles’ skin.

Charles relaxed even further, now nearly a dead weight in Erik’s lap. He continued scenting Erik, his nose brushing the juncture between shoulder neck and Erik swallowed heavily, willing his body not to react. It had been a long time since anyone had touched him like this.

Finally, Charles pulled back, blinking blearily at Erik, lips parted.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his eyes clearing gradually like a man sobering up after a long night of drink.

Erik had to command his hands to obey him. They wanted to stay right where they were on Charles’ hips, holding him there. He managed to force them to drop, and Charles clumsily climbed off of Erik, his foot brushing dangerously close to the obvious bulge in Erik’s sweatpants. Charles was in much the same situation, Erik noted unsurprised. Even not mated and not truly scenting, an omega straddling an alpha’s lap could really only have one result.

Erik watched as Charles settled down below the covers and pulled them up to his chin before doing the same himself, making sure to leave plenty of space between them. He ran a hand over his face and up into his hair, wondering what the hell he was doing.

Charles turned to face him. “Goodnight, Erik.” His big blue eyes were hopeful.

Erik rolled away, putting his back to Charles and turning off the lamp with a flick of his powers.

For the first time he forced himself to say it. “Goodnight, Charles.”

He could’ve sworn he heard Charles’ answering smile.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys. My beta couldn't check this chapter for me, but I wanted to get the update out, so please excuse any extra typos or wonky things! I'm on vacay this week, so I hope I can update again soon :D

Erik woke slowly, feeling more rested than he had in years. The bed was warmer than usual and an intoxicating scent filled the air, something sweet and comforting, like the smell of home after a long day out. Erik’s limbs moved seemingly of their own accord, looping around the source of the perfect smell and pulling it closer. He buried his face into skin, inhaling deeply and brushing his nose through soft, short hairs. God, it smelled so good. He could stay here all day, no, forever even, and he took another deep breath of it, frowning slightly when he noticed a strange smell lingering underneath, hidden by the deliciousness but still there, niggling at him. It smelled like…

Erik jerked back, disentangling himself from Charles as fast as he could. Charles rolled over and his eyes blurry with sleep, but there was a satisfied curve to his mouth. “Good morning,” he said.

Erik stared at him dumbly. The knock at the door saved him.

“Dad! There’s no one on the couch! Did he leave?”

Charles sat up instantly, jumping from the bed and rushing to open the door. Lorna stood there, staring up at him, though Erik couldn’t tell if she was glad or sad he was still here. “I thought you might be gone.”

“No, sweetheart,” Charles said, kneeling down to her height. “I’m never going to leave you.”

Erik’s fists tightened on the sheets.

“Are you hungry?” Charles asked her, and she nodded. “Let’s get you something to eat then.”

He could hear their chatter as they disappeared down the hall, but his gaze was caught on the dip Charles had left in the bed.

Charles had smelled like home, like laundry detergent and cheap shampoo and lemon-scented cleaner. But more than that, he smelled like _Erik_ , his irresistible omega scent mixed with Erik’s own strong alpha pheromones. There was only a minute trace of Shaw left, buried down below it all. Erik’s stomach rolled.

He forced himself to get out of bed and dressed mechanically. He paused when he got to the kitchen, finding that Wanda was already serving her first time out of the day.

Charles was scrambling eggs at the stove. “Are you going to eat before you go?”

“No,” Erik said, more harshly than he meant to.

Charles’ flinch was so small that Erik almost missed it.

“I’ll be back for dinner,” he offered. Charles didn’t answer but Lorna threw up her hands and exclaimed, “Yay!”

Erik left, climbing into Magneto and simply sitting for a moment, resting his head against the wheel. This was all getting out of control.

What the hell was he doing?

He twisted the key and Magneto quickly sputtered out, refusing to start. He gritted his teeth and tried again, and finally on the third try, the truck roared to life.

***

The kids fought back tooth and nail against Charles’ new rules, but Erik could see them slowly starting to give in, losing TV and dessert hitting them where it hurt. But not just that. He saw them preen under Charles’ approval, and when the majority of his words to them were, “Nicely done!” or, “I’m so proud,” they lit up. Erik hated to admit that it was working, but it was.

After much prodding, he gave Charles access to his laptop and online banking, and soon spreadsheets full of calculations that he couldn’t even begin to understand started to appear in his “important documents” folder.

The bedtime story routine continued, and even when Charles told the kids it was Erik’s night to read, they objected, saying that Charles was funnier and more entertaining anyway. Erik’s pride was bruised, but he didn’t mind sitting back and letting Charles take on another duty. He watched from his perch on the end of Pietro’s bed, a small smile on his lips as Charles’ cheeks flushed with excitement. Sometimes Erik thought he was more into the story than the kids were.

Their morning and nightly scenting continued as well, and while it had gradually become less awkward, Erik was still making sure to breathe as shallowly as possible. If Charles had noticed, he hadn’t said anything.

Erik even handed over the keys to Magneto one night, concerned and protective, but Charles just huffed and climbed in, getting it to start on the first try.

“Beginner’s luck,” Erik deadpanned, and Charles laughed, a light and lovely sound.

He returned with meat, eggs, and tons of fresh vegetables, and ordered the kids to help him put them away. Pietro refused and ended up in time out, but Erik watched as Wanda and Lorna obeyed Charles’ directions.

After the groceries were put away and Pietro’s time out was over, Charles sat the kids down in the living room in front of the TV.

“I want you to stay here and watch Spongebob until your Dad and I are done cooking, okay?”

“What?” Erik said as the same time Lorna happily replied, “Yes!” Spongebob was her favorite.

Charles turned to Erik with that increasingly familiar stubborn expression. “We’re cooking.”

“We?”

Charles took him by the arm with a surprisingly strong grip and dragged him into the kitchen. “I don’t know how to cook. You don’t know how to cook. I think the best solution is to figure it out together.”

Erik felt this was a dubious plan, but Charles was already going on. “Cooking is not only healthier for everyone, but it’s also going to save us money.” He pulled open the fridge and began digging for something.

“Right,” Erik said, standing there awkwardly, unsure of what to do.

“Peel the potatoes, please,” Charles said, as if sensing Erik’s thought. “They’re on the counter.”

Erik spotted the bag and decided to just go ahead and do it. Learning to cook might just be helpful after all. He ripped open the bag and summoned a knife from the block to his hand. Charles appeared beside him, carrying chicken breasts and broccoli.

Charles took a deep breath. “Here goes nothing.”

Erik grunted in agreement, picking up the first potato.

He’d done this before as a child while his mother gently scolded him for cutting off too much of the potato with the skin. With that in mind, he carefully began peeling it, adjusting angle and pressure until he got it just right. By the time he got to the third one, his hand wasn’t even on the knife any longer. His powers were more precise than his hands could ever be.

He noticed Charles had gone still beside him. He’d been cutting up broccoli, but now he was just staring at Erik’s knife work, his lips parted. Erik tried to ignore it, but it was hard with the weight of Charles’ gaze on him, and for some reason, he sped up in the peeling, flipping the knife in the air completely unnecessarily.

Charles let out a delighted laugh. “That’s amazing.”

Erik kept his eyes on the potato. “Yeah?”

“Really incredible.” There was nothing but sincerity in Charles’ voice. Erik glanced at him, finding that Charles’ red lips were curved into a smile. “Do you think we could teach Lorna to do that?”

“Are you implying that I should let my six-year-old daughter play with knives?”

“Of course not!” Charles exclaimed, scandalized. Erik didn’t say anything, keeping his face neutral. “Oh… Oh! Was that a joke? Are you _joking_ with me?”

Erik didn’t answer, picking up another potato.

“You’re joking with me.” Charles elbowed him. “Do it again!”

“I don’t make jokes on command,” he said, but for some reason his face felt hot.

Charles gave a dramatic sigh and went back to cutting. “But, seriously, could she learn?”

“This kind of fine control took me years to master, but she’ll get there in time.”

“I can’t wait to see her grow,” Charles said proudly. “I wish I could do something too. It wouldn’t even have to be a great power. Even just shooting sparkles from my fingers would be cool.”

“I knew someone who could do that.”

“Really? I thought I was making that up. Did I know her?”

“No,” Erik said. “You haven’t met her.”

“Ah,” Charles said, obviously disappointed.

Erik let a moment pass before speaking again. “So you’d be a mutant if you could be? Most humans wouldn’t say that.”

Charles paused in his cutting. “I don’t mean to be flippant or to dismiss the struggles all of you deal with, but mutants are amazing. You’re obviously a step ahead of the rest of us. I don’t know…” He frowned down at the cutting board. “I guess I just admire you.”

Erik didn’t know what to say to that, so he didn’t answer, concentrating on the potatoes instead. After a moment, Charles resumed working as well, the sound of his chopping filling the kitchen.

“Finished,” Charles announced a few minutes later.

Out of the corner of his eye, Erik watched as Charles set down his knife and stepped away, opening a cupboard and searching around for something. He stood on tip-toe to reach it, and Erik watched for a moment with mild amusement as he struggled. He put down his knife and potato and came up behind Charles, noting idly that the old polo shirt Charles was wearing today hid the bond bite.

“Need help?”

Charles looked over his shoulder, his lower lip sticking out slightly, just on the edge of a pout. “I can’t reach the measuring cup.”

Erik reached up over Charles’ shoulder, easily grabbing the cup. Charles fit nicely under his chin, his hair tickling Erik’s neck. He brought the cup down, laying it on the counter.

“Thank you,” Charles murmured, wrapping his hand around it.

Erik didn’t mean to catch a whiff of Charles’ scent, but it was hard to resist when he was this close. It was intoxicating enough to scatter the thoughts from Erik’s mind, leaving it blissfully blank. With no conscious thought, his head bent down and his nose brushed the hairs right behind Charles’ ear. Charles went very still, his hand tightening on the measuring cup. Erik took a deep inhale, and Charles’ head slowly rolled to the side, exposing his neck more fully. Taking another deep breath, Erik nuzzled against the skin Charles was willingly offering, and Charles relaxed against him, his weight leaning back against Erik.

The beep of the oven rang out in the kitchen, startling them both. Erik jumped back, shaking his head to clear it from the haze that had come over him. The back of Charles’ neck was red, and Erik wondered how far down his pale skin that blush spread before he managed to fully wrangle control of himself, shutting down that line of thought.

Charles turned to face Erik, his face as red as his neck and his eyes lowered to the floor. The shy display was so at odds with the fiery Charles that Erik had been getting used to lately that it struck him anew just how little about Charles he really knew.

“You can scent me anytime, you know,” Charles said, eyes still carefully averted. “But could you give me a little warning perhaps?”

“Of course,” Erik said. It didn’t feel like enough so he added, “Sorry.”

Charles finally looked up at him, a tentative smile on his lips. “No need to apologize. I’m glad.” The smile grew a bit stronger. “I’m glad that you wanted to scent me.”

“Right.” Erik motioned jerkily to the potatoes. “I’m going to finish peeling those.”

“Right,” Charles said, holding up the measuring cup. “I’m going to make some lemon sauce. Hopefully.”

Erik nodded and they got back to work, standing side by side in a silence that wasn’t completely uncomfortable.

The food wasn’t the greatest. Erik put too much milk and not enough salt in the mashed potatoes, the lemon sauce Charles made for the broccoli and chicken was bitter, and Wanda got two timeouts for refusing to sit still while everyone was eating. Still, it was the best dinner Erik had had in a long time.

***

The alarm blared at 6:30 a.m. on the first day of school, and Erik hit the snooze, burying his face in his pillow. He heard Charles groaning beside him and smirked. At least they were suffering together. He jumped when a hand landed on his back, but he made himself relax as Charles snuggled up to his side, tucking his face into Erik’s neck and scenting. He knew Charles still couldn’t be smelling much, or he’d know that Erik wasn’t quite right, but Charles seemed to love the act itself. Erik rolled over, dislodging Charles and then pulling him in again more tightly, nestling his own face into Charles’ neck.

Erik could admit that he liked it. That everyday Charles smelled more and more of him and less and less of that other scent he refused to name, and that it was calming. It was simple biology, Erik reminded himself. If any omega was separated from his mate, he still needed to be enticing to other alphas to ensure he could secure their protection. And who was Erik to fight against biology?

“We’ve got to get the kids ready,” Charles mumbled, but he wasn’t trying to move, content where he was in Erik’s arms. At least Erik wasn’t the only one who liked it.

“Dad!” came a whiney voice from outside the door, and Erik gently pried himself from Charles’ surprisingly long limbs.

“Let’s get up.”

Charles reluctantly nodded, dragging himself from the bed and they dressed in comfortable silence before opening the door to find that it was Pietro today.

“Excited for school?” Charles asked, and Pietro was, babbling away all throughout breakfast. Wanda and Lorna were equally as keyed up, and Erik watched as Charles wrangled them fairly expertly, convincing Wanda and Lorna to sit still so that he could show them a surprise.

“Ta-da!” he said, presenting them with ribbons, one dark green and one red. “How about putting these in your hair?”

The girls’ eyes widened with delight and there was nearly a scuffle over who would go first before Charles told them to play rock-paper-scissors, and it was Wanda who won. Though it was slightly clumsy, Charles managed to give her a high ponytail and secured it with the red ribbon. He did the same for Lorna, the dark green standing out nicely against her light green hair.

The two girls hopped up and ran to the bathroom to check out their new hairstyles in the mirror, and Erik heard happy chatter pouring down the hallway.

Pietro was frowning, but Charles looked at him and winked, pulling a small toy car from his pocket. “And for you.” Pietro was across the room faster than Erik had ever seen him move, and Erik wasn’t sure if he was smiling at his son’s exponentially growing powers or at how well Charles had them dancing in the palm of his hand.

“By the way,” Charles said casually, standing up and dusting off his pants. “I called the school and told them we wouldn’t need the bus today because we were driving them down there ourselves.”

“We are?” Erik asked.

Charles smiled a bit sheepishly. “Well, the bus isn’t coming so we really don’t have a choice.”

Erik wondered if the children were the only ones dancing in Charles’ hand at this point.

***

Charles wasn’t content with simply seeing the kids to the door, and Erik sighed, following him into the school, Pietro holding one of his hands while Wanda held the other.

“What are we doing now?” Erik asked.

“Looking for someone,” Charles said, Lorna pressed closely to his side. “Ah! There she is!” He waved across the hallway to--

Moira MacTaggert. The woman who had threatened to take Erik’s children. Erik didn’t often fall into his alpha instincts, but she read as danger to him, and he tensed as she approached.

His jaw dropped as she pulled Charles into a hug. “It’s so good to see you!”

Charles was positively glowing. “I just wanted to come and thank you in person for all of your help. I’ve implemented everything you and the book have suggested, and while it’s very much still a work in progress, I’m optimistic.”

“Fantastic news,” she said, and then she greeted each child by name, giving them a kind smile. Last, she said, completely straight-faced, “Erik.”

“MacTaggert,” he replied, just as coolly. He had no idea what this beta woman was doing all over Charles and his children, and he stewed on it, chewing on the inside of his cheek as they continued to chat amiably like the best of friends.

He managed to wait until they were both back in Magneto before he turned narrowed eyes on Charles. “And what,” he managed to ask evenly, “was that?”

Charles’ brow was furrowed in confusion. “What’s got your panties in a twist?” His face lightened. “Oh, Erik, I know you’ll be lonely without the kids at home all day, but school--”

“No. The woman. MacTaggert. What was that?”

“Oh,” Charles said. “Well, when she dropped by she saw that I was having some problems controlling the kids, so she gave me this book on parenting, and it turned out to be very helpful. So I called the school and asked for her number to thank her, and we got to talking, and we just clicked. She’s been giving me advice ever since.”

The roaring in Erik’s head quieted but didn’t dissipate completely. “I didn’t know about this.”

Charles shrugged. “Honestly, Erik, I didn’t think you’d care.”

“Of course I care.” Charles was watching him straight-faced and it was enough to make Erik deflate.

Of course it had looked like he didn’t care. He’d foisted the children off on Charles and run off to work and the mutant center meetings without a thought of them waiting at home. Even when he was there, he hadn’t done enough for his kids, letting them run wild and then scaring them into silence with his harsh scolding. Charles had done more for his kids in the past few weeks than Erik had done in years. There was a sudden stinging behind his eyes that he tried to blink away.

“Hey.” Charles’ hand landed on his shoulder, the touch gentle but still enough to ground him. “I know all of this hasn’t been easy on you either. My stupid accident has turned our whole lives upside down, and I’m sorry for that. But now that I’ve got this chance, I want to do things right.” He squeezed Erik’s shoulder. “Can we do this, Erik? The two of us, together?”

Erik looked at him, really looked at him, the sincerity in his eyes and the freckles dotting his cheeks and the hopeful curve of his red lips.

“Yeah,” Erik said. “Let’s do this.”

Charles grinned at him, unselfconscious and open, an expression Erik had never seen on his face, and it loosened the tightness in Erik’s chest and suddenly, he could breathe again.

He reached over, tugging on the neckline of Charles’ cheap grey t-shirt. It was wide and stretched, obviously past its expiration date, and large areas of Charles’ chest peeked out every time he moved. “I don’t have a job until ten thirty today,” he said. “How about we go and get you some clothes.” He paused before quickly adding. “If it fits in your budget, of course.”

Erik didn’t know it was possible, but Charles’ grin spread even wider.

They ended up at Target, and though Erik wished for the millionth time that he was rich enough to buy something brand name, Charles seemed perfectly content to browse the clothes rack there. At one point, Erik lost track of him and scoured the entire men’s section before he found Charles in the kids section, checking the prices on a t-shirt that said “Mutant and Proud.”

He held one up, waving it at Erik. “Isn’t this great?”

“It’s cute,” Erik admitted, “but I thought we were trying to stick to a budget here.”

Charles pouted melodramatically and put the shirt back. “My, my. My husband has become so responsible in a matter of weeks.”

“Thanks to someone,” Erik shot back. Charles laughed, and finally returned to shopping for his own clothes. After he’d picked out a few t-shirts and jeans, Erik trailed him to the fitting rooms, sitting in a spare chair and pulling out his cellphone. There weren’t any new texts, unsurprisingly, so he went to check his email instead, finding a new one from Theresa with an update about a new funding source. He was so absorbed in reading that he didn’t hear the door open or Charles step out until feet appeared in his line of sight and someone cleared their throat rather loudly.

He looked up to find Charles standing before him, barefoot, in fitted jeans that hugged the lines of his legs and a blue t-shirt that highlighted the strength of his shoulders, the curves of his arms, and the dip of his collar bones. Erik stared helplessly, his eyes drawn everywhere and refusing to settle on just one place, jumping from hip to thigh to neckline.

“Well?” Charles asked, fidgeting a bit. “I think something like this would be okay, right?”

“Yes,” Erik tried to say but the word came out so weakly he repeated himself. “Yes.”

“Good,” Charles said, rocking back on his heels. “Then I’ll just get a few pairs of the same thing in different colors.”

Erik nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

As they were checking out, the little old lady ringing them up smiled sweetly at them. “Find everything you needed?”

“Yes,” Charles replied, an equally as sweet smile on his own face. “I do believe I did.”

It wasn’t until they left the store that Erik remembered that this was the day he’d planned on telling Charles the truth. He sneaked a sideways glance at Charles who was walking happily beside him, head tilted back as he gazed up at the cloudless blue sky. His expression was pure contentment.

Perhaps the truth could wait a bit longer.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everybody! It's a little bit of a longer chapter this time. Yay!
> 
> My beta is still missing in action, so forgive any typos and weirdness. (If anyone would be willing to help me out for future chapters, that would be awesome, and you can contact me on tumblr [here](http://endingthemes.tumblr.com/). I'll probably put out a post asking over there as well :'))

Over the next few weeks, Erik came home to sights that left him speechless.

One day, he walked in to find Charles on the couch with Lorna in his lap, the two of them concentrating on a book. Lorna was sounding out each word carefully, looking up to Charles for approval and beaming when she got it. Wanda and Pietro were nearby, kneeling at the coffee table as they scribbled away on their worksheets. Pietro cocked his head, tapping his pencil against the paper. He stood up, bringing the paper to Charles. Instead of jumping on the couch or demanding Charles’ attention, he waited, fidgeting but holding his tongue. Charles finished the last word he was on with Lorna before turning to Pietro.

“Is there something you’re having trouble with?”

“Can you help me with number seven?”

“What do we say?”

“Please,” Pietro added, ducking his head, and Charles ruffled his white hair.

Erik felt faint.

Another day Erik came home to find MacTaggert sitting in his armchair, sharing a pot of tea with Charles. Tea was a relatively recent addition to their grocery list, something that Charles had said was comforting to him, so though Erik didn’t care for it, he'd had no objections adding it into the budget.

“Welcome home,” Charles said.

“Erik,” MacTaggert greeted, but it was less icy than it had been on the first day of school.

Pietro and Lorna were on the floor coloring, but Wanda was nowhere in sight. Erik was about to ask after her when she walked in from the kitchen carrying a carton of milk. She saw Erik, but didn’t say anything to him, instead heading right over to MacTaggert and saying in a cheerful voice, “Here’s your milk, Ms. MacTaggert.”

MacTaggert accepted the carton with a kind smile. “Thank you, Wanda.” She poured a bit of milk into her mug of tea and then handed the carton back to her.

“Will you put it back in the fridge, Wanda?” Charles asked and she nodded eagerly. She disappeared back into the kitchen, and when she returned she finally bounded up to Erik.

“Did you see, Dad? Today I’m the hostess! I have to treat my guests well.”

Erik’s brows were inching toward his hairline, but he simply said, “Yeah, you were good. You’re a great hostess.” He was pretty sure that if he had tried to ask Wanda to bring him milk two months ago, she would have kicked him in the shin.

MacTaggert was still smiling. “I’ve had a nice time visiting. Your family is very welcoming.”

Erik’s family was... welcoming?

MacTaggert even ended up staying for dinner, watching with an amused raised brow as Charles and Erik cooked together, all their movements coordinated like a well-oiled machine.

“It’s delicious,” she said after the first bite of pasta, her face lighting up, and Charles gave Erik a wink.

He came home to Moira visiting quite often after that.

One day he arrived to find the living room empty and was confused for a moment before he heard squeals coming from the backyard. He made his way around the house and stopped when he saw what was happening, keeping himself out of sight. Charles had a stopwatch in his hand and Pietro was standing at a tree on the far side of the yard.

“Go!” Charles yelled and Pietro became a blur, faster than Erik had ever seen him move, and then he was at the tree on the opposite side of yard. “Six point eight seconds!” Charles yelled to him. “That’s fantastic!”

Lorna sat by Charles’ feet, her small hands busy, and Erik knew just what she was doing, could feel the metal moving and changing in her hands. She tugged on the leg of Charles’ jeans, presenting him with a rather lopsided four-legged metal creature.

“Oh!” Charles sounded thrilled. “And what’s this, my dear?”

“A dog,” she said shyly. “I’d like a dog.”

Charles adjusted the bow in her hair. “Maybe someday.” She nodded and went back to the metal, changing the shape again.

“Wanda!” Charles called across the yard to her. “Try the ball!”

“Okay!” she yelled back. “Ready?”

Charles saluted her, and her little eyes narrowed in concentration. The ball disappeared in a swarm of red sparks, and for a moment nothing else happened. Then suddenly, the ball reappeared in the air right in front of Charles, dropping to the ground in another shower of red sparks.

“You did it!” Charles cried, and Wanda dashed across the yard toward him.

“I did it!” She tackled Charles, nearly knocking him over, and he swung her around, laughing. Pietro joined them in a flash.

“That was kind of awesome,” he said, and Wanda blushed.

Erik’s heart felt too big for his chest. His children were amazing. He’d never felt more proud to be a mutant parent. But it was Charles, who was very much human, who was the one encouraging their mutations. Not Erik.

It was like a slap to the face. 

At least he had the mutant center. He’d make that a reality, and then he’d have something he could give to his kids. A place for them to go and be themselves. A place for them to learn and grow and interact with other mutants.

Erik knew he hadn’t offered them much over the years. This was his chance to make it up to them.

Things were going so perfectly that Erik wasn’t prepared for the phone call he got while out on a job the next week. He recognized the house number immediately and apologized to his client for taking the call.

“Charles?”

“Erik,” came Charles’ panicked voice. “Erik, I need you to come home. Something horrible has happened.”

Panic clawed at Erik’s chest. “Are you okay? Are the kids okay? Charles, what’s--”

“Wanda hurt Lorna at school. She used her powers on her, Erik. Please, please come home.” Charles sounded like he was falling apart. “I’m sorry about the job you’re on but--”

“Fuck the job,” Erik said, already beginning to gather his things. “I’m coming, Charles. I’m coming right now.”

Erik drove home like a maniac, though if there was anyone who could handle a car well enough to drive like a maniac and still be safe, it was Erik.

He was a bit surprised to see Moira’s blue car in front of his house when he arrived, but he didn’t have a moment to waste wondering about it, sprinting into the house instead.

The first thing he saw was Charles, standing hunched with his arms wrapped around himself as if trying to hold himself together. His face was tear-streaked and blotchy, and the sight of it twisted something in Erik’s chest.

“Erik,” he said, voice shaking. “Thank god.”

Erik wasn’t sure why he did it, but he held open his arms, and Charles didn’t hesitate, crossing the room in a heartbeat and flinging himself into Erik’s embrace. He buried his face in Erik’s neck, his tears falling hot on Erik’s skin. Erik ran a soothing hand up and down Charles’ back and held him close, willing him to stop shaking.

Moira was there too, glancing away to give them their privacy. Pietro was sitting quietly on the couch, watching everything with wide eyes.

“Charles, can you tell me what happened?” Erik asked right into Charles’ ear, trying not to startle him too much.

Charles drew back, wiping uselessly at his eyes. “They were waiting for the bus to arrive…” He trailed off, sniffling.

Seeing him struggling, Moira stepped in. “Lorna was talking a lot about a metal dog she was making for you, Erik, and Wanda kept telling her to shut up over and over and over, and I’m sorry, I should have seen it coming, but I didn’t. Wanda shot some kind of red sparks from her hands and then Lorna went quiet.”

Erik’s stomach dropped. “Is Lorna alright?”

“She was shocked, but a few minutes later she started talking normally again, and she says nothing hurts. I brought them home, but if you think we should take her to the hospital, we can do that. I’m sure Dr. McCoy will be happy to take a look.”

Erik shook his head. “Thank you, Moira, for everything, but this isn’t the first time something like this has happened.” Erik remembered the last incident all too well. He hadn’t even been able to get to the school until hours later. “There aren’t any lasting effects. If she says she feels bad, I’ll take her over tomorrow.”

Moira let out a breath. “That’s… that’s great to hear.” She put her hand on Charles’ back, rubbing up and down. “I’m sorry about this, Charles. I’m sorry to rattle you like that.”

“No, no,” Charles said, tears still tracking down his cheeks. “Thank you for bringing them here.”

“I’m going then,” she said. “Just let me know if they’re going to be absent tomorrow.”

Charles gave her a hug before she left, whispering, “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” Erik repeated as she let herself out, and she gave him a nod with a small smile.

Charles had finally somewhat pulled himself together, though an occasional tear still slid down his cheeks. “God, Erik. If she got angry enough, she could just wish for Lorna’s heart to stop and then what?” His breathing started coming faster. “She could--”

“Charles,” Erik said, injecting strength into his voice. He didn’t often care about things like alpha instincts, but an omega was crying helplessly before him and his son was sitting pale-faced on the couch, and he needed everyone to know he was in control and that he would keep them safe. He ran a hand through Charles’ messy hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. “That didn’t happen, Charles, and it won’t.”

Charles seemed to relax, taking a deep, shaky breath and leaning into Erik’s touch.

“I put Lorna in our bedroom and she fell asleep,” he told Erik. “Wanda’s upstairs. Do you think you could talk to her?”

“Yeah, I’ll go,” Erik said. “Hey, Pietro,” he called, getting his son’s attention. “Will you watch Charles for me while I talk to your sister?”

“Leave it to me,” he said, jumping from the couch and going to Charles’ side, obviously glad to be given a task and taking it very seriously.

Erik made his way upstairs, trying to compose his thoughts. It had been over a year since the last incident, but it didn’t make it any less disturbing. He knew kids got into fights and hurt each other all the time, but there was more at stake here than scraped knees. Dealing with mutant powers was a whole new can of worms.

Wanda was on her bed, curled up into a ball. Erik sat down, putting a gentle hand on her back. They sat in silence for a moment, but it was Wanda who spoke first.

“Are you mad?”

“I’m disappointed,” Erik said, and Wanda peeked up at him from behind her arm.

“I’m sorry.”

“You should apologize to Lorna, not me.” Erik gently moved her arm so he could look her straight in the eye. “What happened, Wanda? Why are you like this with your sister? I see you bullying her.”

Wanda’s face crumpled and fresh tears slid down her cheeks. “I don’t.”

“You do,” Erik said, voice firm like Charles had taught him. “I don’t appreciate you lying to me.”

Wanda bit her lip, caught out. “It’s not fair,” she said, her chin quivering. “You like Lorna best ‘cause she’s just like you.”

“What?”

“She has the same powers as you and you like her best!”

Erik blinked down at his daughter, completely stunned. “Wanda, that’s not true. That’s not true at all.”

“You were so excited when you realized what she could do, and you told her how amazing it was, and you even helped her learn how to use it, but you’ve never done that for me!”

Another symptom of his failure to properly be there for his kids, then. He couldn’t be angry at Wanda. He was the one to blame. “Wanda, your powers are more complicated than Lorna’s. I have to be more careful.” He smiled a bit wryly. “Plus, I don’t really think there’s a limit to what you can do. I didn’t want to push you before you were ready.”

“I’m your least favorite child,” she said, hiding her face in her covers. “You like Pietro ‘cause he’s a boy and you like Lorna ‘cause she’s like you, but you don’t like me.”

“Hey,” Erik said, his heart cracking in his chest. “That’s not true at all. Come here.” She didn’t move, so Erik picked her up instead, laying her head on his shoulder and just holding her, rocking her gently. He realized he didn’t remember the last time he’d done this. He’d been a shitty, absent father. No wonder she’d acted up so much. She was desperate for his approval.

“I love you, Wanda,” he said. “I’m very proud of you. I saw you teleport that ball the other day when you were outside with Charles. That was very cool.”

Wanda drew back, looking up at him. “You think so?”

“Very cool,” Erik repeated seriously, and she smiled a shaky smile, wiping at her face. "I'm sorry I've let you down, Wanda, but I really do love you. You and Pietro and Lorna mean the world to me, even when you're driving me crazy."

"Really?" she asked, her smile more steady now.

"Really," he said, brushing away the last of her tears with his thumbs. She hugged him tightly, and he gave her a moment to calm herself before he spoke again. “Wanda, I need you to apologize to your sister for hurting her and to Charles for scaring him. Can you do that?”

She nodded slowly as she let go of Erik, and he smoothed her hair back from her face, kissing her forehead.

She trailed after him as they returned to the living room where Charles was pacing like a nervous wreck with Pietro standing guard like a small knight.

Charles spotted them and stilled, his eyes darting between them. Erik gently guided Wanda in front of him, nudging her toward Charles. “Go on,” he said.

She twisted her hands in her skirt. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I did a bad thing.”

“Thank you for apologizing, Wanda,” Charles said. He crouched down to her height. “I accept your apology, but I also want you to promise you won’t do it again.”

“I promise I won’t,” she said.

“Good,” Charles said, giving her a watery smile. “Now give me a hug.”

Wanda threw herself into Charles’ arms. “I’m sorry, Papa.”

Charles’ eyes widened, and he looked up at Erik. “Papa,” he mouthed, so clearly touched, and Erik’s heart sank.

That night, Charles pounced on Erik the moment he was in bed, laying half on top of him, twining their legs together, and burying his face in Erik’s neck.

Erik let him do it, running his hands down Charles’ back.

“I’m sorry I was such a mess today,” he said against Erik’s skin, nearly a whisper.

“You did nothing wrong,” Erik said, his hand playing along the hem of Charles’ t-shirt. “It was the first time you had to deal with something like that happening with the kids. It’s normal to be upset.” Some levity entered his tone. “They’re really quite durable, so you don’t need to worry.”

Charles huffed out a laugh, a warm puff of air against Erik’s neck. “Did this used to happen a lot?” Charles asked. “Did I deal with it differently then?”

Erik’s hand stilled. “You dealt with it just fine before and after.”

Charles nodded, his hair catching in Erik’s stubble. “Was I…” He paused. “Was I very different? The me then and the me now?”

Erik thought about Charles on the yacht, drunk and spoiled and beautiful, hissing vicious words at Erik. He thought about Charles scrubbing dishes in the kitchen, honest and hardworking, dabbing soap suds on Erik’s nose and cackling. He didn’t know for sure which one was the real Charles, but he was starting to think it was the one currently clinging to him like a limpet, stubborn and good to a fault.

Erik swallowed. “You’re perfect the way you are.”

Charles raised his head from Erik’s neck, and his lips were stretched into a dazzling smile. Erik’s heart hammered against his ribs. “I’m glad you think so. I do hope I can remember soon, though. For your sake and mine.”

“Yeah,” Erik said, pushing Charles’ hair back from his face so that he could see his eyes more clearly. “But there’s no rush.”

Charles fell asleep there, half-draped on top of Erik, but Erik didn’t move him, comforted by his weight and presence. He wrapped his arms around Charles’ waist, holding him tightly, and fought off all of his feelings of guilt and confusion. It was too late to feel regret now.

***

Erik woke early, the chatter of birds outside the only sound in the still morning. He was curled around Charles, his nose pressed to Charles’ neck. Shaw’s bond bite was staring him in the face.

“Mmm,” Charles murmured, turning over in Erik’s arms. He pushed his leg between Erik’s knees and then froze, tensing.

Erik had been waking up hard for weeks, but this was the first time Charles had come into direct contact with it. Charles blinked his eyes open and looked up at Erik.

“Sorry,” he said, face flushed.

“It’s okay,” Erik said, scooting away slightly. “It’s a reflex.”

Charles snorted. “That doesn’t sound very sexy at all.”

“It’s a very _big, strong_ reflex,” Erik said and Charles laughed, swatting at him. He settled back down, adjusting in Erik’s arms.

“We haven’t--” He motioned between them. “Not once in months. Are you alright?”

“I have hands,” Erik said, and he’d certainly been using them. “Honestly, Charles, most of the time I’m just too exhausted to care.” And wasn’t that the truth. Being a single dad of three young kids hadn’t been great on his sex life. He’d become the world’s speediest and most economical masturbator.

“Oh,” Charles said. “I thought maybe, when you went out all those nights--” He shook his head. “Never mind. I’m just glad that’s not the case.”

Erik sat up, dislodging Charles and looking down on him. “You thought I was cheating on you?”

Charles averted his eyes. “I’m sorry for even thinking it. I just-- I had a hard time at first, and frankly, you were _mean_. We weren’t getting along, and I just assumed the worst.”

“I haven’t,” Erik said firmly. He was many things, but he wasn’t a cheater. Though would it even be called cheating if it was on Charles? Not to mention, was what he was currently doing to Charles really any better than cheating?

“Can I ask where you go?”

The mutant center was the only part of his life that was still separate from Charles. The one thing he was doing that made him feel good about himself. Charles was watching him patiently, obviously not pushing, but his lips were set in a determined line. Erik knew he could continue to hide it, but he didn’t see why he should. Charles, who was good with budgets and organizing and people wrangling, would be the perfect asset.

“I go to meetings,” he said, “and next time, I’d like you to come with me.”

***

The next meeting was on a Saturday night, and Moira agreed to watch the kids, so they dropped them off on the way to Theresa’s house.

“Do you think they’ll be okay?” Charles asked Erik worriedly.

Erik laughed. “I think the question is, will Moira be okay?”

They arrived at Theresa’s home a bit early, but other cars were already parked in her driveway and along the street. Erik had explained a little bit about the meetings to Charles, but he hoped today would really help show him just how much work and preparation they’d all done.

“This must be Charles!” Theresa cooed, pulling him into a hug. Erik hung back and watched as Charles was treated to a little bit of overwhelming motherly love. Alex and Armando were next, and they shook Charles’ hand, joking that they were glad Erik wasn’t trying to keep him a secret anymore. Azazel looked downright gleeful to see Charles, but Erik sent him a warning glare, and he didn’t say anything out of line. Angel was chatting with him when Logan finally showed up, strolling in and stopping dead, looking Charles up and down in the most obvious once-over Erik had ever seen. Erik growled under his breath.

“Is something wrong?” Charles asked him.

“No,” Erik said, watching Logan approach with narrowed eyes. “Of course not.”

“Hello,” Charles greeted Logan cheerfully, giving him a radiant smile. “I’m Charles.” Erik had to resist the urge to yank Charles away and keep him glued to Erik’s side. He still wasn’t used to seeing Charles out and about, interacting with others. Erik found that he didn’t like sharing.

He tried to remind himself that Logan was harmless, but when it came to him chatting with Charles, all Erik could see was “alpha” and “threat.” He stood by Charles, guarding like a sentinel as the two of them spoke, and even though he caught Charles sending him amused glances, he refused to stand down.

After introductions were over, they sat down to business in Theresa’s basement which had been converted into their workspace. The walls were covered in blueprints and mockups and there were stacks upon stacks of papers, ranging from tax exemption rules to paint colors. Charles sat in a chair a bit outside of the circle, brows knitted in concentration as he listened, trying to catch up to where they were in their plans. He stayed mostly silent, until Armando paused in what he was saying, trying to do a mental calculation, and Charles easily supplied the answer.

Erik thought the meeting had gone well overall, though he was still concerned with the amount they needed to get done in the next three weeks before the council meeting. He slipped away to the bathroom, and when he came back, he found Charles chatting happily in the group, complimenting Theresa’s home and then politely inquiring whether Alex and Armando had any children. Alex’s blush made everyone laugh and Erik watched from the doorway, feeling the familiar nausea he’d been living with as of late rise in his gut once again.

“He’s not what I expected,” Azazel said, popping up next to Erik, and it was sign of just how frayed Erik’s nerves were that he actually startled. “In fact, I like him. Are you sure he didn’t suffer brain damage from his accident?”

“The brain scans were fine,” Erik said. “But I might have misjudged some things. Maybe.”

“Oh?” Azazel raised a brow. “The infallible Erik Lehnsherr?”

“He’s not…” Erik tried to find the words but all of them felt woefully inadequate. “He’s not what I thought he would be.”

Azazel hummed. “You know, Erik, you could always tell him. It’s been months, and I know you expected this to be long over, but telling him is always an option.”

Erik didn’t answer, watching as Logan mimicked snapping something large in half, and Charles threw his head back and laughed.

Azazel smiled wickedly. “Would you like me to tell him?”

“No.” Erik knew it was a joke but he didn’t feel like laughing. “No. I’m the one who needs to fix this.”

“I’ve never been with an omega,” Azazel went on, his tail flicking. “How is it? Does he get wet for you?”

Erik whirled on him. “What the fuck, Az?” he snarled. “That shit isn’t funny.”

“Ah.” Azazel nodded. “I see now. You’re in deeper than I thought.”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion,” Erik ground out.

“When this all goes south -- and it will -- I just want you to remember that you brought this on yourself. If you’d just learn to let things go--”

“I know,” Erik said, his anger deflating all at once. How could he be mad when Azazel was so right?

Azazel clapped him on the back. “When it all goes down, let’s get drunk.”

Erik huffed out a humorless laugh.

Erik and Charles were two of the first to leave, excusing themselves to go and pick up the kids. As Erik started Magneto and the truck sputtered to life, he felt Charles’ eyes on him.

“What?”

“Thank you for taking me, Erik.” He'd been beaming for the last hour and somehow the brightness of his smile hadn't dimmed a bit. “This is an amazing project, and I’d like to be as much help as I can be.” His smile finally slipped slightly and Erik was sorry to see it go. “I’m sorry I thought you were out getting drunk and playing around when you were actually working on something so important. You should be incredibly proud of what you’ve accomplished.”

Erik’s cheeks went hot, and he hoped that the dull light of the evening would help to hide his blush. “Armando sent me detailed minutes on every meeting we’ve had,” he told Charles. “If you’d like, I could show--”

Charles leaned across the console and pressed a kiss to Erik’s lips. It was a peck, nothing more, just long enough for Erik to feel the softness of Charles’ lips before they were gone. Charles sat back in his seat, face turned away. “I’d love to read the notes.”

“They’re uh,” Erik faltered, speech suddenly difficult. “On my--” He resisted the urge to touch his lips. “On my laptop. I'll--I’ll show them to you when we get home.”

“Sounds good,” Charles said, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear.

Scenting that night was exquisite torture. Erik’s mind replayed the kiss on loop, each detail magnified in his mind. The curve of Charles’ lower lip, the blush that stained his cheeks, the way his hair had fallen in his eyes as he glanced away.

Charles was in his arms now, today in Erik’s lap, much like the first time they’d ever scented, his hands resting comfortably on Erik’s chest. It would be so easy to pry Charles off of his neck and claim his lips instead. To push him down onto the bed and take and take and take.

But Erik held himself back, forced his hands to stay in their usual spot on Charles’ hips, forced his breathing to the slow and steady pace they were used to. God, but he ached for him, his whole body singing at Charles’ touch. The smell of Shaw was so diminished now that Erik could ignore it and pretend that he’d never existed. That he and Charles really had met in high school and fallen in love and bonded like only two teenagers who believed in forever could. That Charles had given birth to Erik’s children and raised them.

That Charles loved him.

He fell asleep holding Charles a bit too tightly, but Charles didn’t object.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to give a big thanks to all of you who are reading. I'm honestly a bit floored by the reaction this fic has gotten, and I'm so grateful. And another big thanks to [afrocurl](http://archiveofourown.org/users/afrocurl/pseuds/afrocurl/works) for stepping up to beta and to all the people who volunteered to help me now or in the future. Thank you!
> 
> And please check out this amazing cover for this fic made by avictoriangirl [here!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4841873)

In the short span of Charles’ memory, there were two turning points in his life. The first was when he finally put his foot down, took over the children’s discipline, and forced Erik into line. The second was the first night Erik took Charles to the mutant center meeting. Charles had missed having friends -- though he hadn’t known it until he had fallen in so quickly with Moira -- and he was overjoyed to make more.

More than that, he was glad that the last thing Erik was hiding from him was out in the open. Charles didn’t know why Erik had thought he wouldn’t have wanted to participate in the first place, but he didn’t care to dwell on it. He and Erik were truly equals now, truly a team in every sense of the word.

As the kids played fairly quietly, Charles was double checking the finance spreadsheet he’d made for the mutant center, making sure he’d gotten every organization and potential contribution correct. Wanda was on the couch next to him, working together with Lorna to help her smooth out the lumps on the metallic dog she was still trying to make for Erik. Charles didn’t know what Erik and Wanda had talked about that day he’d gone upstairs, but whatever it was must have been just what she needed because her resentment of Lorna had declined steadily ever since.

It certainly didn’t hurt that Erik was home more often and more involved with the kids than ever before.

Positive that his finance calculations were accurate, Charles moved back to his main project, intent on perfecting it before the meeting tonight. Everyone had agreed to come to their house to hear what Charles had to say. He’d spent more than a week catching up with their notes and emails, gorging himself on information and finding it all easy to understand. He wondered secretly to himself if perhaps he was a genius because it all came so easily, even when Erik struggled to keep up.

Ah, well, it made sense if he was the brains and Erik was the brawn. He laughed a bit to himself, and Wanda looked up from Lorna’s dog. “What’s so funny, Papa?”

“Nothing, pumpkin,” he said, and she just frowned at him.

Moira arrived soon after with the projector that she’d sneakily borrowed from the school for Charles. She helped him set up the living room with chairs so that everyone in the meeting would have somewhere to sit and gave him the great news that the school would be willing to donate any old textbooks and electronics to the center.

Erik arrived home with barely enough time to change before the meeting, greeting the kids and Charles and disappearing into the bedroom in a rush. Charles hadn’t thought he would be too nervous, but once people started filing in, his palms became sweaty.

What if he’d gone about this all wrong? What if he’d overstepped his bounds? The last thing he wanted to do was embarrass Erik or impede their progress. Erik noticed the shift in his mood and put a comforting hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “You’ve got this.”

“I’ve got this,” Charles repeated. He calmed a bit when he caught sight of his kids crawling all over a completely nonplussed Logan and reminded himself that these people liked him.

Finally it was time to start, and Charles stood in front of the blank wall they were using as a makeshift screen, holding the clicker.

“Hi, everyone. Um, first, I want to say what great work you’ve all been doing here, and that I hope what I show you tonight can be of some assistance.” He clicked to the first slide.

“As you all know, we need three votes out of the five to win. We know who the council members are, so I did some googling and investigating of my own, and believe I’ve found a way to sway three members of the council to our side.”

A murmur went around the room at this.

“Ah, if you’ll allow me to explain…” He clicked again, and a large picture of five people came up on the screen. “These are the five people who will determine whether we get the center or not. Two of the five are thoroughly in Stryker’s pocket. That tall, heavyset man was Stryker’s business partner many years ago and the balding man on the end is Stryker’s brother-in-law. We can’t win their votes.”

“However, this man...” Charles tapped the clicker again and it changed to a picture of a short man with a full head of bushy hair and glasses, “...is Bolivar Trask, and his biggest driving factor is safety. To this end, I’ve compiled data from various well-accredited studies that shows that mutant centers reduce the rate of mutant crime and mutant related accidents.” He clicked again. “This woman is Betsy Braddock. She’s a mutant with two children of her own, one mutant and one human. I think it will be easy to secure her vote, but to be safe, I’ve stressed that both mutants and humans are welcome at the center and how important these interactions are to us to help eliminate both stigma and bullying. She needs to know that both of her children will be more than welcome.” Taking a deep breath, Charles clicked again. “And this, last, is Jason Wyngarde. He’s lived in Newport his whole life and is a proud owner of multiple properties that he rents out to tourists. He doesn’t especially care about mutants, but he cares about reputation. With this in mind, I believe it’s important to stress the positive PR a mutant center would generate for us. We’re a working class, fairly remote town, which is often associated with prejudice and stereotypes. Our mutant center will be only the second in the state, and it will bring press and attention, much more than a shopping mall ever could.

“I believe if we focus on these three voters in these key ways, we’ll win handily, whether we actually have the better proposal or not.” He paused, wiping his palms on his jeans before he added hastily, “Which I think we do by the way.”

He’d talked too quickly in his nervousness and rushed over important points, but when Moira flicked on the lights, everyone in the group, including Erik, was staring at him like they’d never seen him before.

“Charles--” Theresa started, but it was Logan who loudly said, “That’s the sneakiest shit I’ve ever heard.” He crossed the room in two large strides and slapped Charles hard on the back. “We’re gonna win with this for sure.”

Charles smiled through the smarting in his back, and then everyone was on him, crowding around him and talking all at once.

“Genius!”

“Charles!”

“This is amazing--”

“Why didn’t we think of--”

Charles craned his neck, searching for Erik, and he found him standing a bit behind the crowd, eyes locked on Charles as he smiled. It wasn’t his big toothy grin or his sardonic smirk. It was the calm, small smile that he saved for when Pietro got an A on a test or Lorna managed to float her fork.

Erik was proud of him.

“A vote,” Theresa declared, “that Charles should be the one to stand and speak for us at the meeting.”

“Oh, no.” Charles held up his hands. “I couldn’t. I just--”

Theresa didn’t even notice his protests. “All in favor say ‘Aye’!”

And as one, everyone in the room said, “Aye!”

***

There was only a week left until the meeting, and Charles found himself increasingly more nervous everyday. He’d written and rewritten his speech, but still he went back to revise and revise again.

They’d already sent in their written proposal, a large packet of information that the group had gathered and developed over the months full of financials, building plans, studies, and a timeline of all their future actions. Charles hoped each member of the council read it over carefully before the meeting, but he knew there was a lot to take in, and it would eventually come down to whatever he said when called to speak.

The kids were playing outside, and Erik was home, tightening the leaky kitchen faucet. He came over to the table where Charles was hunched over the laptop and his handwritten notes, wiping the grime off of his hands on an old dirty towel.

“How’s it going?” he asked, grabbing a nearby chair and dragging it over so they could sit side by side.

“I don’t know,” Charles said honestly, deleting another word with a too hard, irritated tap of the key. Erik grabbed his hand and stilled it, and Charles glanced up to find Erik looking at him with a worried tilt to his brow.

“Charles, if this is too much for you, you know you can say so, right? No one’s forcing you into anything here.”

“I know.” Charles smiled wanly at Erik. “I’m the one forcing myself. I’m sorry to worry you.” He turned his hand in Erik’s and squeezed.

“Okay,” Erik said, releasing his hand, and unsure of what to do with it, Charles scratched at his nose. Erik huffed out a laugh.

“You’ve got--” Erik licked his thumb and dabbed at Charles’ nose, rubbing something off. Charles’ eyes crossed as he watched Erik’s long fingers, and Erik laughed again. Slowly, he withdrew his hand. “All clean now.”

Charles didn’t realize how close they’d gotten, how they had turned towards each other, Erik’s knees between his. Erik’s eyes flicked down to Charles’ lips, and Charles held his breath.

Erik closed the last of the distance, kissing Charles softly. Charles’ eyes fluttered shut, his hand falling to Erik’s thigh as he leaned into it, tilting his head so that Erik could kiss him more solidly. Erik’s hand came up, skimming along Charles’ side before sliding into his hair, holding him there just like he did when they scented, but scenting was comforting and this was making Charles’ heart try to beat its way out of his chest.

Charles made a sound of protest as Erik started to pull away, and he pressed forward, sealing their lips again, not ready to let the moment go. He’d been wanting this for far too long, waiting and hoping that Erik would finally make the move, and now that he had, Charles was going to show him just how much he wanted him. He deepened the kiss, forcing his way into Erik’s mouth, desperate and probably a little sloppy, but not caring a bit because it felt so good and _finally_.

His heart sang as Erik let out a small groan of enjoyment, and he was determined to make Erik utter that sound again. He began to slide his hand up Erik’s thigh, but Erik moved faster, and Charles gasped in surprise as Erik pulled him into his lap, the kitchen chair creaking beneath their combined weight as Charles straddled him. For once, Charles was taller than his lanky mate, and he took full advantage of his position, grabbing Erik’s chin and tilting his head up, easily controlling the kiss and savoring the feeling of Erik shuddering beneath him.

There was heat building low in Charles’ belly, a sensation he didn’t remember ever feeling with his scent receptors damaged, but he was getting hard now, his pulse pounding and his blood racing even though he could barely smell.

Erik could smell though, and Charles knew the moment Erik caught the scent of his obvious arousal, his whole body tensing beneath Charles’ like he’d grabbed a live wire. Erik’s hands slid down Charles’ back and over the curve of his ass, and without warning, Erik scooped him up, carrying him toward the living room. Charles wrapped his legs around Erik’s waist, laughing breathlessly at Erik’s determined expression.

“I’m heavier than you thought.” He pressed a kiss to Erik’s stubbled chin.

“No,” Erik denied, but he couldn’t resist kissing Charles’ teasing smile, and they never made it out of the kitchen, Erik pressing Charles to the wall instead and letting his feet drop to the floor. Charles would have slid all the way to the ground if Erik hadn’t pressed the long, hot line of his body up against him and held him there, his hands grabbing Charles’ wrists and pinning them to the wall beside his head.

Charles surrendered, letting Erik do as he liked, and he licked into Charles’ mouth with no finesse at all, just a greedy, possessive hunger that made Charles’ breath hitch. His acquiescence spurred Erik on and he growled into the kiss before drawing back to press kisses all over Charles’ face and down his neck. He made it to the curve where Charles’ neck met his shoulder and his scent was strongest, and he dragged his teeth across the skin, making Charles shudder.

“Mine,” he whispered fiercely against Charles’ skin.

Charles’ knees buckled, but Erik’s hold on his wrists kept him up and he moaned helplessly, rubbing against Erik desperately, craving more friction. “ _Erik_ \--”

“Papa!” came Lorna’s voice and then the screech of the screen door, and they had barely a second to separate, jumping apart in a startling loss of heat. Erik turned awkwardly to hide his massive erection as Charles rushed back to his seat at the table on shaky legs to conceal his own condition there, trying fruitlessly to smooth his hair down. Lorna came into the kitchen and stopped, looking between them.

Though Charles’ cheeks were on fire, he was doing fairly well controlling his breathing, but Erik was panting, his chest heaving.

“Dad, are you okay?” she asked, frowning up at him.

“Yeah, I’m fine, Lorna. Just--” He ran in place, jogging nowhere like a fool “--just getting some exercise.”

“You’re stupid,” Lorna said with a laugh. “Isn’t he stupid, Papa?”

“The stupidest,” Charles agreed gravely, though a smile was tugging at his lips.

Erik really did look like an idiot, but that didn’t change the fact that Erik was still the most handsome man that Charles had ever seen. That the cut of his jaw and the color of his eyes and the lines of his muscles underneath his clothes distracted Charles daily. And now, on top of all of that, Charles knew that underneath Erik’s gruff and foolish exterior, there was a good, caring man. Charles didn’t like to easily throw around the word, “perfect,” but honestly, it was no wonder Charles had married him.

Erik was nodding along to Lorna’s babbling about how much better it was to run around outside instead of in the kitchen as he subtly tried to calm his breathing and hide his quickly waning arousal. Charles watched him struggle, probably far too pleased with himself, but it was hard not to be happy. At last, he had solid proof that Erik finally wanted him just as much as he wanted Erik.

That night, Charles’ stomach was fluttering as he slid into bed. After what had happened in the kitchen, he wasn’t sure what to expect, but he knew he was craving Erik’s touch.

Erik clicked off the lamp with a wave of his hand, and Charles bit his lip, wondering if Erik would simply roll over and go to sleep. But he didn’t, turning toward Charles instead.

“Can I--” Erik started to ask, his voice uncharacteristically small, “--kiss you?”

“Yes,” Charles whispered, already angling his head in anticipation. “Please.”

It was a gentle and undemanding kiss, and Charles relaxed into it, concentrating on each small sensation, even the brush of Erik’s eyelashes against his cheeks.

Erik broke the kiss slowly, and Charles gave into the instinct to pull Erik into his arms, tucking Erik underneath his chin and feeling pleasantly warm as Erik’s arms circled his waist.

Erik pressed a kiss to Charles’ chest right over his heart, long and lingering, his arms tightening around Charles as he did.

Charles relaxed into the hold, feeling at peace, knowing that if he was in Erik’s embrace, nothing in the world could hurt him. He hoped that Erik felt the same.

They fell asleep like that, Erik’s ear pressed to beat of his heart.

***

The morning of the council meeting dawned cool and cloudy, and Charles couldn’t help his disappointment at the lack of sun.

“I’m not sure how sun is going to affect anything,” Erik said as he pulled on his undershirt, messing up his hair. Charles smiled and reached out, smoothing it back and enjoying the feel of it sliding through his fingers.

“The sun makes me feel more positive. I don’t know,” he said, shrugging as he buttoned his shirt. “It’s like a good luck charm.”

“You don’t need a good luck charm,” Erik said with certainty, holding Charles’ gaze. “You’ll do fine on your own.”

His faith in Charles was humbling, and he ducked his head, embarrassed. “Yes, I know it’s a superstition, but it would still be nice to have one.”

Erik hooked a finger under his chin and lifted it, kissing him gently. “Then I’ll be your good luck charm.” He gave Charles a rather awkwardly performed wink.

“Now I’m sure I’ll lose.”

“Hey,” Erik chided but he was laughing and Charles couldn’t resist pulling him down into another, much longer kiss.

Erik looked good in a suit. Charles hadn’t seen him in one before. He looked older and more mature, like a businessman in his thirties instead of the electrician in his mid-twenties that he was. There was always a sexy confidence around Erik lately, and the suit, along with his outrageous body proportions, definitely helped to highlight that.

Charles finished tying his own tie, and they made their way out to the living room. The kids were watching cartoons, but jumped from the couch immediately when Erik and Charles appeared.

“Papa, today is your big day, right?” Pietro asked.

“That’s right,” Charles said, hoping he didn’t look nervous to the kids. “A big day for Dad and me and all the mutants in this town.”

Pietro elbowed Wanda. “Go on already.”

Wanda looked to Lorna and then stepped forward, her hands hidden behind her back. “We made something for you. To help you in case you get nervous.”

“Oh?” Charles asked, already touched, not even caring if they gifted him with a crumpled candy wrapper.

She smiled and stuck her hands forward, presenting him with a small, metal creature. It was smooth and carefully shaped, with a long, thin tail and round, large ears. The metal was colored brown, and it was finished with two big blue eyes.

“A mouse?” he asked, and the kids nodded quickly.

“We asked Dad what animal you are and he said a mouse,” Lorna said.

“‘Cause you’re small and quick and clever,” Wanda chimed in.

“Though you seem pretty big to me,” Pietro added doubtfully.

“Small and quick and clever, huh?” Charles said, turning a sly look on Erik who was studying the wall with great interest, the blush on his cheeks obvious.

“I found the metal,” Pietro declared.

“And I shaped it,” Lorna said proudly.

“I changed the colors,” Wanda finished.

“What fantastic teamwork you all have. Just brilliant.” He accepted the mouse from Wanda and set it in his palm, grinning at it. “Thank you so much for this.”

The kids flushed happily. “We hope it’ll help you today,” Wanda said. “Just like you always give us a good luck hug before tests.”

A wave of emotion hit Charles hard then.

His kids were good people. Everything had worked out after all. Even with all the strife and pain there’d been at first, things were going to be alright. His family was going to be alright.

“Thank you. I’m going to keep it in my pocket for the meeting,” he said, trying to keep the overwhelming feelings from his voice, “and I’ll treasure it always.”

***

Newport City Hall was a nice building with fancy columns and marble floors, though it was smaller than Charles had thought it would be. Their group entered the council room together, noting the semi-circular desk at the front of the room with five chairs and the little podium set up before it. The kids were keeping surprisingly quiet, looking around the room with wide, curious eyes.

Charles would be sitting at the front, waiting to be called forward, so this was his last chance to interact with everyone before the big presentation.

Theresa gave him a hug and told him, “You’re going to be great.”

He got enthusiastic smiles and pats on the back from the rest, except for Logan who ruffled his hair and said, “Go get ‘em, Chuck.”

Erik was last, and he took Charles’ hands in his, rubbing his thumbs across them soothingly. “You’re the brightest person I know, Charles. And whatever happens here today, whether we win or not, I’m proud of you.”

Charles’ throat closed up, and he nodded his thanks at Erik.

“I’d prefer if we won, of course,” he added, giving Charles a toothy smile, and Charles allowed himself a nervous laugh.

Then, with a fluttering slowly overtaking his gut, he made his way to the front and sat in his assigned seat. Stryker was already there, picking at his teeth. He didn’t greet Charles, just looked him up and down and then proceeded to ignore him, which suited Charles just fine.

The council meeting started and the members filled out, taking their seats. Today Mrs. Braddock was running the meeting, and she briskly read through the agenda. Charles tried not to fidget as they went through various votes, mostly simple things like proposed plaques or new trees to plant.

“That vote was four to one and the ayes have it,” she said, after another drinking fountain was voted to be added to the park. “And next, we’re on to the issue of the old YMCA. We have two proposals for the current building, and if everyone could please turn to the packets they previously received.” The council members shuffled their papers. “First up is Proposal One, Newport Mall. William Stryker will be presenting. Mr. Stryker, to the podium please.”

Charles watched as Stryker made his way to the front and began his presentation. He’d brought along sleekly made posters full of glossy images and catchy slogans. Everything looked professionally done, put together with obvious thought and salesmanship. Charles felt his confidence falter.

The benefits of Stryker’s mall were clear, and there was no doubt it would bring in money. Charles silently prayed that his strategy of appealing directly to the council members would work.

Stryker finished, and there was only quiet, applause not allowed in the middle of a meeting. Mrs. Braddock asked the council if they had any questions for Mr. Stryker, but they did not.

“Next is Proposal Two, The Mutant Youth Center. Charles Lehnsherr will be presenting. Mr. Lehnsherr, to the podium please.”

Charles stood, grabbing their own less appealing but still thoughtfully made poster and making his way on shaky legs to the front. His palms were sweaty but he tried to hold his composure as he set the poster on the stand. He could feel the eyes of the room on him, and he hoped he wouldn’t choke up.

He cleared his throat, ready to begin, but when he opened his mouth, his mind was suddenly blank. His hands tightened on the edge of the podium. He couldn’t remember a word, not a single thing to say as he stood there completely frozen.

The silence stretched on and the council members were watching him with frowns and his own breath was loud in his ears.

He felt movement against his leg. And again. And _oh_ , the metal mouse was shifting in his pocket.

Erik.

Erik, who thought he was small and quick and clever.

The fog in his mind dissipated, gradually clearing to reveal all of his thoughts -- his hopes and dreams and most importantly, his speech. Erik was supporting him. And not just Erik. They were all standing behind him, putting their faith in him -- his kids, his friends, his _family_. He wouldn’t let them down.

Charles launched into his presentation, careful to keep the words coming steadily without rushing through them. He emphasized the reduction in crime and accidents, the strengthening of human and mutant relations, and the all important PR the town stood to gain.

The members were watching with keen interest, and Mrs. Braddock even had a smile on her face.

“And that is why I hope you, ladies and gentlemen of the city council, will vote for Proposal Two. Thank you very much for your time.”

“Any questions for Mr. Lehnsherr?” Mrs. Braddock asked.

Mr. Wyngarde cleared his throat. “I have a question.” Charles tensed. “Mr. Lehnsherr, our city is suffering from the loss of young people. They don’t move here and the ones born here move away to bigger cities. Wouldn’t a shopping mall be more effective entertainment to entice them?”

“Thank you for your question, Mr. Wyngarde,” Charles said, his confidence returning. “Actually, if you could turn to page 34 of the proposal we prepared, you’ll see that we included a study about millennials’ views toward mutants, and they are overwhelmingly favorable. Young people are less likely to move somewhere they view as behind or backwards, and if the national dialogue is shifting toward complete mutant acceptance, a town that shows it is progressive and willing to change attitude with the times is a town young people are going to want to live in. There are malls everywhere. There’s only one mutant center in the state. If Newport had the second one, we’d be setting ourselves apart from the rest.”

Mr. Wyngarde’s face was still unreadable, but he said, “Thank you. I don’t have any further questions.”

“Anyone else?” Mrs. Braddock asked, and then when there was no answer, “Thank you, Mr. Lehnsherr. You may have a seat.”

Charles made his way back to his chair and dropped into it, so relieved that it was over that he wanted to cry.

“Thank you again to you both,” Mrs. Braddock said. “And now to the vote. Please state which proposal you would like to go with, Proposal One or Proposal Two. There can be no abstaining from this vote.”

Charles watched, heart in his throat, as Mrs. Braddock began. “Proposal two,” she said clearly.

Next was Stryker’s brother-in-law. “Proposal one.”

“Proposal two,” said Trask, and Charles very subtly pumped his fist.

“Proposal one,” said Stryker’s old business partner, and then Mr. Wyngarde was the only one left.

Charles waited, breathless, and then Mr. Wyngarde said, “Proposal Two.”

Charles buried his face in his hands, overwhelmed.

“Proposal Two has it. Proposal Two for the Mutant Youth Center has passed, and as that’s the last on the agenda for the day, I’d like to bring this meeting to a close.”

The council members filed out, but Charles didn’t wait, jumping from his seat and dashing to the back of the room where everyone was celebrating, freely cheering now that the meeting was adjourned.

Erik was like a beacon calling to Charles, and Charles threw himself into Erik’s arms, uncaring of their audience. “We did it!”

Erik actually picked him up and swung him around and Charles was dizzy with joy and relief and love. “We did it!”

Everyone descended on Charles and there were hugs all around. Theresa had tears in her eyes, and she held onto Charles for a long time, telling him how proud she was, how thankful. When she finally released him, Moira was there, waiting for Charles with a smile.

“You’re here,” Charles barely had time to say before she’d pulled him into another hug. “I thought you had work!”

“I couldn’t miss my best friend’s big day. Congratulations, Charles. I’m so proud of you.”

The kids jumped up and down at their feet, trying to join in, calling, “Papa! Papa!” over and over again, and Moira laughed, finally releasing him.

“Yes, okay, he’s all yours,” she told them.

Charles dropped to his knees and hugged the three of them to him, holding them perhaps a bit too tightly.

And through it all, Charles thought, _Thank god I didn’t let my family down._


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for this chapter: it contains what some might feel is dubious consent.

After their victory at City Hall, the rest of the day was spent celebrating at the diner where Angel worked. Her boss, who was also a mutant, was thrilled with the news and gave everyone a heavy discount. There was food and drink and laughter, and Charles felt buoyant, tipsy off of the happiness surrounding him though he hadn’t had a drop of alcohol himself.

He was chatting with Alex and Armando about the plans for the study rooms they were building when Moira joined them. She immediately became the center of a toast when she mentioned the school had many old, unused desks that she was pretty sure they could donate.

Charles had left Erik to keep an eye on the kids, but he still liked to check in periodically. He spotted Erik helping Lorna try to take a bite of a giant cheeseburger and watched as she got more of it on her face than in her mouth. Pietro was trying to dash quickly enough to catch Azazel’s tail as he flicked it around, but every time he caught it, Azazel would teleport away, cackling.

It took Charles an extra moment to find Wanda but he finally realized she was on Logan’s back, getting a rather enthusiastic piggyback ride. Even Erik -- who seemed to dislike Logan for some foolish reason that Charles sometimes privately hoped involved just a small amount of jealousy -- appeared rather amused by the sight.

As the day began to wind down, talk turned from celebration to the next steps, and the kids became bored quickly, their eyes beginning to close.

“Might be time to take these guys home.” Erik said, stretching his arms above his head as he approached Charles and nodding toward the kids.

“Yes,” Charles said, watching Lorna’s head flop to the side as she dozed. “I do believe so.”

The goodbyes were even more effusive than usual, drink and victory making everyone giddy. Erik had only had one beer, but Charles insisted that he be the one to drive, so Erik tossed him the keys and they made their way home in relative quiet, the kids drowsing in the car.

By the time they arrived home, the sun was down. They went through their nightly bathtime routine, but the kids were too tired for a story, so they were able to sneak downstairs earlier than usual.

“Hey,” Erik said softly, getting Charles’ attention. “How about we have a drink to celebrate, just the two of us?”

“Sounds good,” Charles said. “Champagne?”

Erik snorted and pulled two beers from the fridge.

“Close enough,” Charles said. Erik popped the lids off and handed one to Charles.

“To a job well done,” Erik said.

“To teamwork,” Charles added, clinking the necks of their bottles. He took a long, deep gulp. “Damn, that’s good.”

“Nothing like a beer to celebrate,” Erik said, taking his own long drink, his adam’s apple bobbing.

They settled on the couch, drinking in comfortable silence, Charles gradually leaning more and more weight on Erik until Erik laughed and snaked an arm around Charles’ waist, pulling him close.

“I’m glad I didn’t let you down,” Charles said into the quiet.

Erik looked at him, his eyes pale in the low light of the nearby lamp. “You haven’t let me down yet.”

“You’re such a flatterer,” Charles said with a goofy smile. “Who are you and what have you done with my husband?”

“Hey now,” Erik objected, pinching Charles’ side. “I can be charming when I want to be.”

“I know, darling.” Charles pressed a kiss to Erik’s shoulder. “You can also be a downright pain in the ass.”

That startled a laugh out of Erik which made Charles’ smile stretch wider.

“Hold on,” Charles said. “I have an idea.” He pushed up off of the couch and jogged down the hall, returning a moment later with what he’d been searching for.

“It’s an old radio,” he said, showing it to Erik. “I found it the other day, but it doesn’t work. Can you fix it?”

Erik took it from Charles and frowned down at it, turning it over in his hands. After only a moment of concentration, he flicked it. He flipped one of the dials and low jazz music floated across the air.

Charles never got tired of Erik’s amazing mutation. The mere sight of it had warm fondness rising in his chest. “You’re amazing.”

Erik set the radio down on the coffee table, taking a drink of his beer in an obvious attempt to dodge Charles’ praise. His shyness was cute as always.

“Hey, Erik.”

Erik looked up at him questioningly, and suddenly Charles felt like the shy one. He grabbed his beer and chugged it, finishing with a loud satisfied sound and setting the now empty bottle aside. He held out his hand to Erik.

“Let’s dance.”

Erik blinked up at him.

He wiggled his fingers in clear invitation.

“You’re serious?”

“Of course I am,” he said, feeling a bit foolish. “Come on.”

Erik finally took his hand and Charles pulled him up so that they were standing chest to chest. He led Erik out from between the couch and the coffee table to where they had more space, and Erik followed obediently though he looked highly dubious about the whole thing.

“Didn’t we dance at our wedding?” Charles asked, looping his arms around Erik’s neck.

Erik’s hands came up to Charles’ hips instantly. Charles had figured out that Erik had quite a love of his hips. “We got married at the courthouse.”

“Ah. Of course we did,” Charles said, leaning his head on Erik’s shoulder. “Well, we can dance now.”

Erik’s arms slid fully around Charles. “I don’t know how.”

“Listen to the music and just sway,” Charles said against Erik’s shirt. “It’s simple.”

They stopped talking after that, slowly moving in time with the soft music filling the air. Charles thought they probably weren’t really dancing. There was no rhythm to it, no steps or beat to follow, but it felt perfect. He loved Erik’s shoulders, and every chance he got to touch them. He loved every chance he got to be close to Erik at all, to breathe in what little of him Charles could smell and to relax in the heat he always radiated.

Erik seemed to be slowly relaxing too, his tense muscles loosening under Charles’ hands. They danced in silence through one more song before Erik broke the silence.

“I’ve let you down, Charles,” he said. Charles lifted his head so he could look up at Erik.

“What?”

Erik’s expression was serious and there was a sad tilt to his lips. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for letting you down. I don’t know if I apologized before, but I should have. I should have treated you better. The way you deserve to be--”

“I understand,” Charles said softly, “and thank you for apologizing.”

“It’s not enough,” Erik said, his voice catching.

“It is. Let’s put it all behind us.”

“But, Charles--”

Charles put a finger to Erik’s lips, silencing him. “We’re here now, aren’t we? You and I? And we’re happy.” Charles’ finger traced the soft line of Erik’s lips. “There’s no place I’d rather be than right here with you, Erik. No place in the world.” He cupped Erik’s cheek and pulled him into a kiss.

They kissed languidly, beer flavored and perfect. It wasn’t the out of control alpha kiss of a week earlier, but it was still dizzying, the kind of kiss that made the world disappear.

Erik knew just what Charles liked, when to nip and when to soothe, when to deepen the kiss and when to gentle it. Charles followed along, his hand fisting in Erik’s shirt, clinging onto him for dear life.

The emotions of the whole day were spilling over, and Charles drew back slightly, breathing hard into the sliver of space between their lips. He looked up to into Erik’s gorgeous dazed eyes and thought his heart would burst.

“I love you,” he whispered, feeling the words with every bit of his too-full heart and soul.

Erik didn’t answer, pressing their lips together instead, but Charles could feel it, feel Erik’s feelings in every brush of his tongue and every shaky touch. “Charles, I--” He struggled, swallowing and then trying again, “I--”

“Shhh,” Charles murmured, pressing kisses to Erik’s chin, the stubble tickling his lips. “Let’s go to bed, Erik.”

Erik stiffened, and Charles wondered if he was about to be rejected, even now. “Please,” he added.

Erik was searching his face, and all Charles could do was think as hard as he could,  _I love you, I love you, I love you,_ and hope that the depth and sincerity of his feelings were reflected in his expression.

Finally, Erik nodded slowly, and the radio flipped off. Charles took Erik’s hand and led him down the hallway to their bedroom, heart already beginning to pound.

The moment the door was closed, Charles pulled his shirt over his head, watching as Erik’s eyes dropped to the bare skin. Emboldened, he continued, unbuttoning his jeans and stepping out of them a bit clumsily. He hooked his thumbs into the elastic of his boxers and pulled them down as well, kicking them off. Erik licked his lips, his eyes all pupil as they devoured Charles’ naked form as if it was the first time he’d ever seen it.

Feeling exposed, Charles stepped toward Erik, reaching out to strip him with unsteady hands. He helped Erik’s shirt over his head and ran his hands up Erik’s chest, feeling the strength of his muscles beneath his skin. He kissed along the line of Erik’s neck and felt Erik’s pulse pounding against his lips.

“Charles, maybe we shouldn’t--” Erik started, his voice thick with arousal but still hesitant. He was blinking slowly, his eyes glazed as if drunk, an obvious sign of the effect Charles and his scent had on him.

“Erik.” Charles gazed up at him. “Please, if you love me, then show me. I need you to show me.” He leaned up, his lips brushing Erik’s ear as he whispered, “I want you. Do you want me?”

Erik’s whole body had gone rigid under Charles’ hands, nearly vibrating with tension. “I do.” He slowly brought his hands up, skidding along Charles’ sides. “Charles, if we start this, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop.”

“I don’t want you to.” Charles pressed his naked body to Erik’s shirtless one, his hands reaching for the button of Erik’s jeans. “Fuck me, Erik.”

Erik snapped like a string pulled taut, picking Charles up and throwing him down on the bed. He ranged over him and kissed Charles hard, biting at his lips and sucking on his tongue. The fabric of his jeans chafed against Charles’ over-sensitized skin, but Erik was kissing the breath from his lungs and the thoughts from his head.

“Your jeans--” Charles tried to reach for them, but Erik pinned him down easily, scraping his teeth along Charles’ neck and scenting him. Charles had worried his own continued lack of scenting ability would dampen his arousal, but his body was alight under Erik’s touch and already he could feel the telltale signs of wetness between his legs. There was no greater aphrodisiac than knowing that Erik wanted him so badly.

Erik released his wrists, kissing his way down Charles’ chest to tease his nipples with his teeth, and Charles arched into the touch, fisting his hands in Erik’s hair to hold him there. He battled against the urge to let his eyes fall shut to simply bask in the sensations, forcing himself to keep them open so he wouldn’t miss a thing.

After lavishing both nipples with equal attention, Erik continued nipping his way down, nuzzling at the trail of hair that ran from Charles’ navel to his cock and breathing the scent in deeply. Charles writhed under the attention, his painfully hard cock dripping precum onto his belly that Erik immediately licked up, growling low in his throat. Charles moaned at the sight, desperate to get Erik where he wanted him most, but Erik continued to tease, exploring Charles’ body with his lips as he shimmied his own jeans and boxers off. He seemed utterly fixated on caressing every bit of Charles, running his hands over any bare skin he could reach as if touching it all for the first time. His hands smoothed up Charles’ thighs, and he paused, breathing hotly over the head of Charles’ erection.

“Please,” Charles breathed, sure he was going to go mad and, finally, mercifully, Erik took Charles’ aching cock into his mouth. Charles threw his head back, crying out as he was engulfed in perfect wet heat. His cry became soundless when Erik drew back to tease the head, tongue swirling around before he sunk back down and took in Charles to the root, his hand teasing at Charles’ balls.

“Erik, please,” Charles begged as Erik expertly sucked him, though he wasn’t quite sure what he wanted, and all he could think was, _more, more, more_. His heart was full and his body was on fire and he tensed up as he began to feel heat coiling in his belly, growing stronger and stronger. “Oh _god_ \--”

Suddenly, Erik released his cock without warning, and Charles groaned at the loss, his limbs falling limply to the bed. He pried his eyes open and watched as Erik licked at the crease of his thigh and spread Charles’ legs wider, making him flush hotly at being so exposed. Erik’s head dipped lower, and Charles bucked up as Erik’s tongue began lapping at his sack, making his cock leak even more heavily.

“Erik,” Charles choked out, grabbing Erik’s hair and tugging him up so that Charles could see his eyes, the green nearly hidden by the black of his pupils. “Erik, fuck me, _please_.”

Erik sat up in a rush, flipping Charles over easily and pressing him to the bed, trailing a line of kisses down his spine. Charles panted into the pillows, perfectly willing to let Erik do anything, whatever he wanted.

Erik reached the crease of Charles’ ass and kissed along one cheek, nipping at the skin. Erik slid his fingers into Charles’ crack, moaning when they met wetness. Charles was aching. He could feel his slick beginning to slide down his balls, and he was desperate, pushing back against Erik’s fingers, longing to have them fill him up.

He whined when Erik’s fingers retreated from where they’d been circling his hole, but soon his warm hands were back, grabbing Charles’ cheeks and squeezing. Erik spread Charles open and Charles barely had time to think about what was happening before Erik had buried his face in Charles’ ass, licking at his hole greedily.

“Fuck!” Charles cried out as Erik’s tongue circled him, lapping up his wetness. “Erik--”

There was a low growl rumbling deep in Erik’s chest as he continued to eat Charles out, pushing his tongue into the tight heat of Charles’ body. His hands tightened on Charles’ cheeks, holding him still as he tried to writhe.

“You taste perfect,” Erik said, voice gruff and his breath fanning hot across Charles’ sensitive skin. He slid a finger into Charles’ hole, and Charles fisted his hands in the sheets, arching up into the touch.

“More,” he panted. “More, Erik--”

Erik obeyed, withdrawing his finger and then pushing in two, scissoring Charles open. He bent down to lick again, fucking Charles with both fingers and tongue. Charles nearly howled, biting down on the pillow below him to muffle the sound and arching his back, trying to get Erik deeper.

“Your cock,” Charles managed between helpless noises. “I want your cock.”

Erik sat up, flipping Charles over again, manhandling him easily as if he weighed nothing. Charles watched mesmerized as Erik jerked himself a few times, his giant cock a deep, painfully aroused red as he coated it with Charles’ own wetness.

The sight spurred Charles to sit up and bat Erik’s hand away, replacing it with his own. He moved his hand over the smooth flesh before licking at the tip, glancing up at Erik through his lashes. He didn’t quite know what he was doing, and he felt clumsy, a bit nervous at the thought that he might not be able to compete with his former self. But Erik gave an appreciative groan and ran his fingers through Charles’ hair, so Charles took more into his mouth, his lips stretching around Erik’s girth. He tasted Erik’s precum and his own slick, a perfect mix of the two them, and he tried to take Erik deeper, wanting to taste even more. He used his hand on the part of the shaft his mouth couldn’t reach, gradually speeding up his movements and making sure to flick his tongue against the head as often as he could.

“Charles,” Erik said, voice strangled, “if you don’t stop--” Charles eased back, pleased with himself, but not wanting this to end too soon. He’d waited far too long for this to let it end before Erik was buried deep inside of him.

He lay back down and displayed himself in clear invitation, aching for Erik to fill him up. Erik didn’t hesitate, grabbing Charles’ legs and hitching them up, releasing one for a moment to guide his cock to Charles’ hole. There was a blunt pressure, and then a delicious burn as he pushed in, slowly sliding home into Charles’ willing body.

“Fuck,” Erik bit out, and Charles clenched around him, pleased to see it drag a low moan from his mate. It was an exquisite feeling to have Erik inside of him, finally the closest that two people could ever be. Erik was staring down at him like he was something amazing and precious, and Charles reached out to him, wanting to hold him near.

Erik fell easily into Charles’ arms, bending Charles nearly in half so that he could kiss along Charles’ neck as he began to move. Charles turned his head, baring his neck to Erik completely in the ultimate show of surrender, moaning mindlessly with every delicious drag of Erik’s cock inside of him. Erik was saying something as his thrusts picked up pace, whispering it over and over against Charles’ skin.

“Mine, mine, mine.”

“Yours,” Charles said, his nails scraping down Erik’s back as he arched up, and the new angle stole his breath as Erik pounded him relentlessly in the perfect spot, making his toes curl.

Erik buried his face more fully in Charles’ neck, each of his increasingly brutal thrusts moving Charles up the bed. Charles felt owned, surrounded, and loved, every nerve in his body on fire for Erik as the pleasure continued to build.

“Mine,” Erik whispered one last time, and Charles cried out, his hole clenching as Erik’s cock pushed him over the edge and he came untouched, his cock throbbing hard as wetness coated his belly. Erik followed soon after, biting off a curse and driving himself deep before shuddering apart with a low moan that sounded like Charles’ name.

He collapsed on top of Charles, their sweaty skin pressing together, and though Erik was heavy and hot and sticky, Charles wrapped his arms around him, wanting to keep him there.

“I love you,” he whispered again, but Erik didn’t lift his head from Charles’ shoulder.

The pillow was wet when Erik finally sat up, wiping at his face which was red from exertion. He pulled on boxers and disappeared to the bathroom. He was gone for a few long moments and Charles catalogued each ache in his body with a sweet kind of relish until Erik returned with a wet cloth, his face still slightly blotchy. He cleaned Charles with care, gently wiping his belly, pubic hair, and well-used hole. Charles sighed happily, drowsy and sated from orgasm, and pleased with Erik’s attentiveness.

Erik climbed back into bed, pulling Charles into his arms and pressing kisses to the top of his head and breathing in his scent. “Charles,” he murmured, his hold tightening.

“Mmm?” Charles said, tipping his head up for a kiss. Erik kissed him and brought a hand up to cup his cheek, his thumb brushing along the soft skin.

“Charles, I want you to promise me something.”

“Of course,” Charles said. “Anything.”

“Promise me--” Erik swallowed hard. “Whatever happens from now on… no matter what... I love you.” Erik’s expression was one that Charles had never seen, his eyes and the curve of his mouth sad somehow. “Promise me you’ll remember that.”

“I promise,” Charles said, and it felt like a vow. He put his hand on Erik’s chest so he could feel his heartbeat. “I’m sorry I lost my memories, Erik. I’m sorry my accident nearly tore us apart.”

Erik blinked repeatedly, redness creeping in around his eyes. “You have nothing to apologize for. Please don’t.”

“I must have been so careless, and I’m sorry for that.” He wondered for the millionth time how he’d gotten into this position, what the hell he’d been doing near the water. He shook his head. None of that mattered now. “I hope I get my memories back, I do. But if I don’t, it’ll be okay, won’t it?” He smiled. “Even if I lost my memories all over again, I’m not worried. You’re the love of my life, Erik. I’d fall in love with you every time.”

Erik buried his face in Charles’ hair, his heart beating hard against Charles’ hand, and mumbled something that sounded like, “I hope so.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how many times I can say that I love and appreciate you guys, but I thought I'd say it again anyway <3

Erik slept fitfully even with Charles in his arms. He shouldn’t have done it. He shouldn’t have let things get this far.

He shouldn’t have let himself fall in love.

Shaw’s bite was still on Charles’ neck, and Erik could see the red ridges of it in the dim morning light, taunting him. Charles could get a chemical divorce, could sever the bond with Shaw and that bite would fade with time, and then he could be Erik’s for real. Erik could be the one to bite down into Charles’ pale flesh and mark him.

Not that he’d earned that right at all. He cursed himself for not holding back, for following Charles into the bedroom and letting his instincts take over. For wanting Charles so badly that every warning thought in his mind had gone quiet the moment Charles had begged Erik to show him how much he loved him.

He slid from the bed, making sure Charles was still comfortable before he snuck out to the kitchen to make breakfast. The smell of the cooking eggs made him ill and even when the kids came downstairs to join him, being quiet in deference to the still snoozing Charles, his mood didn’t lighten.

He needed to tell Charles the truth, and it needed to happen now, before anything went further. But really, how much further could it go?

Charles appeared in the kitchen only a few minutes later, sleepily greeting the kids and dropping into the chair that had become his. Erik served him eggs, and Charles smiled up at him happily, and Erik could almost pretend he really was the perfect, doting husband making sure to feed his mate.

Around mid-morning, the phone rang.

“Erik, how are you this morning?” Theresa greeted. “I hope you had a good night celebrating with your family.”

“Yeah,” Erik said, trying not to think too deeply about what he’d done. “What’s going on?”

“State Representative Munroe is going to be coming down here tomorrow. Well, more like swinging by because she’s heading downstate, but she’s enthused about our center and she’d really like to take some pictures. We were thinking about having a little impromptu ground-breaking ceremony, though of course we’re not ready yet. It would all be symbolic. Just the cutting of the ribbon and such.”

It was real then. They really had won yesterday, and this was happening. Erik’s mouth finally remembered how to smile. “That sounds fun. You want Charles and I there then?”

“The children too, of course. I know it’s a weekday, and I hate to take up your time--”

“Theresa,” he interrupted. “We’ll be there.”

“It starts at five o’clock.” He could hear the smile in her words. “We really did it, Erik. Your mom would be so proud of you.”

For this, yes, she would be. For his other choices, he was sure she’d have disowned him. “Thank you.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Who was that?” Charles asked after they hung up, and Erik told him. Charles was so excited that he insisted the kids needed haircuts before ending up in the pictures, and Erik was much better with scissors than Charles, so the rest of the morning was lost to squirming kids and trimming hair.

Erik had work in the afternoon, and before he left, Charles stopped him at the door. “Have a good day, darling.” He leaned up to give Erik a quick kiss.

“Ew,” said Pietro from the couch, and Charles laughed against Erik’s lips.

Suddenly Erik wasn’t ready to let him go. He looped an arm around Charles’ waist to kiss him more deeply, ignoring the kids making gagging sounds in the background.

_Not today,_ Erik told himself. _Just give me one more day. One more day, and then I’ll tell him everything._

***

The children were bursting with energy the next afternoon, excited to get dressed up even though they’d spent the whole day at school. Lorna picked out a white dress and a black headband, asking for Erik to slide it into her hair. Charles was overseeing Pietro while Wanda was still picking out her outfit. Pietro’s wild hair refused to be tamed, so Charles gave up on it, smoothing the collar of Pietro’s polo shirt instead.

“Papa, I’m done,” Wanda declared.

“Okay,” Charles said, and then Erik heard him laugh.

“What?” Erik asked, turning toward them.

“Check this out.” Charles stepped out of the way and Wanda stood there next to her bed where she’d laid out a red dress, a red cardigan, and her favorite red bow.

Erik laughed too. “Why not? Let her wear whatever she wants.”

“My thoughts exactly. This looks lovely, Wanda.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I like red.”

As Erik watched Wanda get dressed, he was seized by the thought that his kids were really growing up. He remembered changing diapers and warming bottles and now he didn’t even need to tie their shoes.

He checked the clock, noting that if they left in the next ten minutes, they’d arrive with plenty of time. He retreated down the stairs and to their bedroom, searching for his maroon tie and coming up empty.

“Charles!” he called, his voice carrying. “Where’s my tie?”

“What?” Charles yelled back.

He tried again more loudly. “My tie!”

“The maroon one?” he called back. “Hold on!”

Charles appeared in the doorway a moment later and made a beeline for the dresser, pulling open the second drawer to reveal three carefully folded ties. He held up the maroon one. “Right here.”

“You switched the tie drawer,” Erik said with a frown. “My whole day’s messed up.”

Charles snorted. “Messing with your OCD is fun, but I only switched them because the other drawer is easier to open and we use these less.”

“Infallible logic as always.” He held out his hand for the tie, but Charles approached Erik and looped it around his neck himself, tying it neatly as his hands brushed Erik’s throat. Erik watched him work, drinking in the sight.

He planned to tell Charles everything tonight, and whatever happened, he didn’t expect it would be very good. No, this wasn’t the time to cling to false hope. There was no way it would go well, but maybe, if he could fully explain...

He loved Charles and Charles loved him. They loved each other, so there was a chance that somehow it could all work out.

It still felt like an impossibly long shot.

This might be the last time Charles ever let him this close, he realized, and for an aching moment, he tried to memorize his face. His eyes traced over the crease of Charles’ brow, the unreal blue of his eyes, his slightly too large nose and the two big freckles on it. They landed on his lips, studying the bow-like shape of the upper one and the plush curve of the bottom.

Charles must have noticed because those irresistible lips curved in amusement. “See something you like?”

“Everything,” Erik answered honestly, and he was pleased to see Charles blush. Charles pulled Erik down by his tie into a rather involved kiss. He licked happily into Erik’s mouth, and Erik let it happen, his hands finding Charles’ hips as always, gripping him a bit too tightly. _I don’t want to lose this,_ he thought with no small amount of desperation. _I can’t lose this._

Charles was the one who finally drew back, his lips wet. “We’re going to be late.”

“Right,” Erik said, willing his erection away. A whiff of Charles’ scent was enough to make him half-hard these days. “Let’s go then.”

They herded the kids outside into the fall afternoon and there was a slight chill on the air. A quick mental check showed Erik that somehow in the mess of getting ready, he’d forgotten his phone. “I’ve got to get my phone. Be right back.” He tossed the keys to Charles. “Can you load them up?”

He ran back inside, locating his phone easily with his powers and summoning it to his hand. He pushed back through the screen door just in time to see a black car pulling up as Charles and the kids stared at it in obvious confusion.

The windows were tinted and the make was expensive, one of those posh chartered cars that Erik had only seen from a distance or in movies.

There was no reason for a fancy car to come to his home.

His eyes caught on Charles. No, there was a reason. Only one.

And with a finality that made his heart plummet, he knew it was over.

***

Charles watched the car with mild trepidation, wondering just who could be coming in such an intimidating car on a Monday afternoon.

The backdoor opened, and out stepped a blue woman with bright red hair and yellow eyes. She was beautiful, the kind of mutation that took Chares’ breath away.

“Whoa,” said Pietro quietly next to him.

“Charles?” the woman said, her face crumpling. “Oh my god, Charles, it is you!”

Charles looked to Erik with confusion. “Who?” he mouthed to Erik, but Erik didn’t answer, seemingly frozen in place across the yard.

She was coming toward him, looking as if she was planning to pull him into a hug, so Charles held out a warning hand, and she stopped. “Charles, are you okay?”

“Do you…” He motioned between her and himself. “...know me? Have we met?”

“What? Of course I know you!” She was tearing up. “How could I not know my own brother?”

“Brother?” Charles said dumbly. But Erik had told him his family was dead. Had he been mistaken?

“Kids, go inside,” Erik ordered, and they looked to Charles for direction.

“Listen to your dad,” he said automatically, his thoughts fully focused on the woman standing before him. The kids obeyed without question, unsure of what was happening but sensing the tense atmosphere, and they casted glances back at the blue woman until they were inside.

“Charles, who’re they?” she asked. She pointed to Erik. “And who’s he?” It didn’t make sense. How could she not know Erik? “Charles, are you hurt?”

“My memory,” he said. “I lost my memories. My family is dead.”

“Your memories--?” Her eyes were wide and watery. “We’re not dead. There’s me and there’s Sharon too.”

“Erik, is this my sister?” Charles asked, counting on Erik to steer him true as he always had since the moment he’d woken up as a blank slate.

“I don’t know,” Erik said in a strangely toneless voice. “She might be.”

“What--?” Charles began to ask.

“Of course I am!” she said, taking another step toward Charles. “My name is Raven Xavier, and I’m your sister. Your name is Charles Xavier.”

“Xavier,” Charles repeated, and it niggled at him. It felt familiar, more familiar than many things had felt over the past months.

“And you’re my brother, and you’ve been missing for four months.”

“E-Erik?” Charles was feeling more and more lost, and he wanted his mate near, but still Erik didn’t move, his face pale and hands hanging limply by his sides.

“Charles, if you don’t believe me, read my mind.” Raven took his hand and slowly brought it to her temple. “I’m giving you permission.”

“What? I can’t-- I’m a human.” He turned panicked eyes on Erik. “I’m a human.”

“Charles, try, please,” she pleaded. “It’ll all make sense.”

His hands were shaking. Why wasn’t Erik coming to his side? His breath started coming faster.

“Please,” Raven asked again, her hand tightening on Charles’, pushing his fingers against her skin.

“I don’t--” he stammered. He stared at her forehead, trying to think about what it would be like to peek inside, to know her thoughts. It was impossible--

In a flash, it was as if the world changed from black and white to color, suddenly alive. He could hear _everything_ , not just her mind, but countless others. He fell to his knees, holding his head in his hands and gritting his teeth against the overwhelming strength of the thoughts. They overpowered him, driving him from his own mind and sending him skidding through theirs. The fisherman out at sea, the children playing in the park, the old woman knitting a scarf--

“Charles--! Charles!” Someone was calling him, and yes, Charles, that was him. He was back in his own mind now, watching like a spectator in his own head as it tried to piece itself back together.

There was his absent father, his alcoholic mother, his abusive stepfather, and then Raven. Raven, Raven, Raven, the one good thing he had, the one thing he needed to protect at all costs. And then like a dark, skulking shadow, Sebastian Shaw rose up. No matter what, he had to protect Raven. So there was a wedding, and then a bonding he got so drunk for he could barely remember it, and from then on, alcohol and more alcohol. There was Raven’s heartbroken face and Sharon’s approving grin.

And then there was only blurred time, years spent hating everything he was and everything he did. Years spent trying to avoid Sebastian. Years spent crying into his pillow, whether it was in Sebastian’s outrageous penthouse or on his stupid yacht.

The _yacht._ Erik and their fight. And then, that night, Sebastian pushing him over, trying to kill him, and Charles sinking into black.

He somehow miraculously woke up on the beach, and lying there with his head in the sand, all he could think was, _No more, no more, I can’t take anymore._ He sealed his own memories then and there, tucking everything away where not even he could find it.  _Someone else_ , he thought with every fiber of his being. _I want to be someone else._

He jerked awake with a gasp. He was in someone’s arms -- Erik’s arms, and Raven was there too, kneeling next to them.

“Charles, are you alright? Do you remember?” she asked, her worry leaking everywhere.

“Yes,” he managed, his throat constricted and his head throbbing. “Yes, I remember.”

Erik’s arms around him tensed. Charles looked up into his familiar, beloved face and realized that he didn’t know him at all.

Suddenly Erik’s touch was unbearable. “Let go of me,” Charles ground out, struggling to free himself.

Erik’s face fell, twisting in pain, but he obeyed Charles, letting him sit up with only Raven’s assistance, though his hands were fidgeting and obviously itching to help. Charles managed to stand on shaky legs, though it still felt as if the world was spinning.

For the first time he could feel Erik’s mind, and it was a dark morass of tangled feelings, nothing that Charles wanted to touch.

“You... you…” Tears prickled Charles’ eyes. “You lied to me.”

“Charles--” Erik tried, but Charles cut him off.

“Don’t-- I don’t want excuses. I want the truth.”

Raven was watching, her eyes darting nervously between them.

“You aren’t my mate,” Charles said, and the words broke his heart.

“No,” Erik replied.

“Those aren’t my children?”

“No.”

Charles could barely get air into his lungs, his breaths coming short and fast as his whole world collapsed around him.

“How could you even--” Charles suddenly felt as if he’d be ill, but he swallowed the bile down. “Why would you do this?”

“Charles, I--”

“You know what?” Charles snapped, anger overpowering his raw hurt. “There’s no point in me standing here listening to more lies come out of your mouth.”

Without a bit of finesse, he shoved his way into Erik’s mind with his shaky powers, diving straight into the roiling black and digging for the answers.

There was something about Sebastian and how much Erik hated him, but Charles skimmed over it, jumping ahead and finding that day they’d met on the yacht. He felt Erik’s lust and disgust and his disdain for Charles -- or as he so clearly thought of him: a spoiled omega bitch. And then there was the hospital, where Erik found Charles desperate and confused and thought that a bit of revenge would be good payback for the tools he’d lost. It was followed by a flash of him chuckling with Azazel over Charles’ usefulness.

It was more than Charles could bear to see, but then another memory floated up and it was Erik and Charles in the hallway of their shabby house, Erik staring down at Charles’ teary eyes and thinking, _There’s no way in hell I’m comforting Sebastian Shaw’s fuck toy._

Charles tore himself from Erik’s mind, recoiling as if burned, and his whole body was wracked with a shaking he couldn’t stop. Erik’s head was in his hands and it was obvious that Charles’ sloppy use of his powers had caused him pain, but Charles couldn’t bring himself to care. For the first time in his life, Charles knew what it was to have an anger that burned cold, and it made him feel numb, as if he’d been scraped raw from the inside and hollowed out.

“Revenge?” he asked, his voice breaking. The bile was rising in the back of his throat again. “Petty revenge for my stupid husband and for _tools_?”

Erik looked up at him, stricken. “It’s more than that, but Charles, I’m sor--”

“Stop!” Charles cried, and the tears were running down his cheeks hot and heavy now. “You used me!“

“Charles, please. Let me explain--”

“Explain what? How much fun you had at my expense?”

“No, it wasn’t--”

“You know what? You and that man you hate? Sebastian Shaw?” He jabbed a trembling finger in Erik’s face. “You and him are exactly the same, Erik. I’m just a fuck toy to both of you.”

Erik reeled back as if struck, his face gone ashen.

“Raven.” Charles turned to her. “I want to go home.”

“Yes,” she said, laying a hand on his lower back and beginning to lead him to the car. “Let’s get you home.”

Erik didn’t move, standing rooted to the spot Charles had left him in. Charles could feel the kids’ minds reeling with confusion as they watched from the windows, and that was another stab, another twist of the blade. Erik had dragged his children into this as well.

“Charles,” Erik called, his voice weak, and Charles had to force himself to hold back the retch that the sound of his name in Erik’s mouth caused. “Charles, your promise… what you promised me, please don’t forget.”

“Love?” Charles spat, turning around to glare at Erik through his tears. “No matter what, you _love_ me?” He huffed out a bitter laugh. “You don’t know the meaning of the word.”

He climbed into the car and yanked the door shut, the slam of it ringing with finality. Raven climbed in the other side. He could feel her curiosity, a million questions bubbling up in her mind, but to her credit, she held silent, ordering the driver to take them away instead.

“I’m glad I found you,” she said as the car pulled out onto the road, and Erik’s black mind began to fade into the distance. “Sebastian told me you were dead, and I just couldn’t believe--”

“Raven,” Charles interrupted, suddenly exhausted, his head pounding and heart barely beating in his chest. He craved the bliss of unconsciousness. “Thank you for coming to find me. Can we… talk about this later, please? I just--”

“Of course,” she said. “Of course we can. Thank god you’re alive, Charles.” She reached out, and for the first time in years, took his hand. He let her, sinking into his own mind and pulling himself into sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, everybody! I was out of town for a charity event but Cherik was never far from my mind <3 Big thanks as always to [afrocurl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/afrocurl/pseuds/afrocurl) for the beta!

When Charles woke, he was in his own bed at the mansion. He hadn’t slept in it in years, not since he’d married Sebastian and been forced to move into his new husband’s penthouse apartment. His head still ached faintly, his powers feeling sore and raw.

There was a sandwich sitting on the bedside table, but he couldn’t stand the sight of it. He rolled away, pulling the high thread count sheets over his head and hiding the grandeur of the room from his sight.

Everything felt wrong. He felt like two different people with two different lives.

Was he Charles Lehnsherr, who lived in happy squalor with his stubborn husband and three rowdy kids? It felt more real than who he really was -- the Xavier heir, raised in privilege but always a disappointment. An omega who could never obtain the respect or prestige of his alpha father.

He curled further in on himself, tempted to wipe his own mind again, tempted to make all the pain and confusion go away. But no--

That’s what had gotten him here in the first place.

There was a knock at the door, and he knew it was Raven. Sharon wouldn’t care to come and check on him. “Charles?” Raven called. “Are you awake?”

Not sure how well his voice would work, he sent, _Come in_. He knew the last time they’d fought nearly five years ago before she stopped speaking to him entirely, she’d told him to stay out of her head, but surely she would forgive him for something so small.

She let herself in, padding across the plush carpet and sitting on his unnecessarily large bed. “How do you feel?”

“Like shit,” he mumbled.

“To be expected,” she said. “The doctor said you were alright.”

Charles peeked out from the covers. “The doctor?”

She frowned. “You don’t remember? You were pretty out of it. Dr. Daniels made a housecall for us.”

“Ah,” he said simply.

“Are you--” she hesitated. “Are you going to tell me what happened? Who that Erik guy was and why you were with him?”

Charles didn’t know that a heart that was already shattered could break again. “He’s…” He couldn’t. “It doesn’t matter who he is, Raven. He’s not a good man.”

“All right,” she said, uncharacteristically patient. “I won’t push, but I hope… someday, maybe you’ll be able to tell me.”

“Yes,” he said, thinking it was probably true, and so, so glad to see her reaching out to him, even if it was under circumstances like these. He’d missed her. “Someday I will.”

She nodded. “Thank you.” She glanced away and took a deep breath before looking back. “Charles, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for what I said back then and how I acted. I thought you were trying to take Sebastian from me--”

“Raven, it’s--”

“No,” she said, and there she was -- the bullheaded sister he’d adored. “I’m going to say this. You were right, Charles. He’s a horrible man, and he was trying to get to our money, and he tricked me. I know now why you did it, Charles. I didn’t understand it then because I was a stupid teenager. I’m sorry I was so mad at you. It wasn’t fair of me. The sacrifice you made for me…” She bit her lip, fighting back tears. Raven hated crying. “Thank you.”

He laid a comforting hand on her knee. “I’d do it again, Raven, if it meant saving you.”

She wiped at her eyes. “I know you would, you self-sacrificing idiot.”

“Excuse me?” he said, taking on a face of mock offense, and she laughed wetly. Perhaps something good would come out of this disaster after all.

Her expression sobered. “Charles, I know you just woke up, and you must be feeling bad, but there’s no time to waste. Sebastian’s been trying to have you declared dead for months so he can get your inheritance. He said you fell overboard and died in an accident at sea. I didn’t even know you were missing until his lawyers came last week trying to speed up the process. I couldn’t accept that you’d just died, so…” She paused, trying to keep herself together. “So I hired a PI who found a newspaper and then dug up a news broadcast…” She shook her head. “Anyway, that’s not important. I found you and you’re alive and that’s all that matters. But Sebastian’s still after the money, all of it.”

Charles sighed. “Of course he is. He pushed me off the yacht, Raven.”

Her lips thinned into a line. “I thought as much, but it was hard to prove since you…”

“--drank so much,” Charles finished for her. “You’ll be glad to know that amnesia helped me kick that habit.”

She smiled sadly. “A silver lining.” She shifted on the bed. “Sebastian already knows you’re back, and I thought he might try to come and retrieve you but his lawyer stopped by yesterday. You’ve been served divorce papers.”

Charles let out a breath. It would finally be over then.

But Raven looked more troubled than relieved. “He’s claiming a fault divorce for infidelity and trying to get all of the money that way.”

Charles pinched the bridge of his nose, his headache flaring back to life. “Of course he is.”

She lowered her eyes. “Does he have a case against you?”

Charles squeezed his eyes shut. He knew Raven didn’t even have to ask. He must have positively reeked of an alpha who most definitely wasn’t his husband. “Yes.”

“This is so stupid!” she burst out, startling him. “Sebastian’s been out fucking everything that moves while trying to have you declared dead, but since you’re an omega, you’re the one who has to pay?”

“I know, Raven, but I can’t fight the prenup. I was young and foolish, and the lawyers who were supposedly on my side were actually in his pocket. If I’d paid more attention--”

“No,” she snapped. “Stop blaming yourself for everything, Charles. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I wasn’t very wise either,” he said, though he was touched by her protectiveness. “Looks like we’ve both grown up.”

“Yeah. From two naive omegas to two helpless omegas,” she said wryly.

“Progress.”

She smiled at him for a moment, then continued, “Do you think we can fight him? Do you have something to use against him? God, I can’t believe I even have to ask you this after hearing that that bastard tried to _kill_ you--”

He sat up gingerly, his head still pounding. “No, it’s a good question. We either sit here feeling sorry for ourselves or we try to plan a move before he makes his next.”

“Do we have a move we can make?” She looked as hopeless as he felt. Sebastian stood to take everything. The thought of letting him win was so repulsive that Charles nearly wanted to lie back down.

There had to be something, somewhere to start looking. Charles had always known Sebastian was a predator of the worst kind, but maybe there was something else. Something more concrete that they could make stick.

He’d seen something vaguely in Erik’s mind...

The thought of Erik stole the breath from Charles’ lungs. It _hurt_ , but he needed to remember. He’d been in Erik’s head for only a messy and desperate moment, but his telepathy gave him an eidetic memory, so he pulled Erik’s black memories back to the front his mind to search through what he’d seen. He closed his eyes, concentrating.

There was Erik’s hate for Sebastian entangled with Erik’s foolish revenge plot against Charles, and poking at it again was like bothering at an open wound. He gritted his teeth and pushed on, trying to examine each piece of Erik’s thoughts about Sebastian more carefully.

There was Sebastian coming into a store. Erik was behind the counter, and cold dread filled him at the sight of Sebastian.

“Looks like you didn’t pay in time, boy,” Sebastian said, making a full turn in the middle of the store. “This will make a fabulous poker den.”

“You can’t do this!” Erik shouted as two men hauled him out of the store and threw him on the street. “You tricked me! You bastard!” Erik hurtled a hammer right at Sebastian’s head with his powers, but Sebastian snatched it easily out of the air, smiling serenely down at Erik with the exact same expression he’d had on his face as he watched Charles drown.

Charles‘ eyes snapped open, startling Raven. “We need to look at Sebastian’s old businesses and financial operations,” he said in a rush, eager to get back into Erik’s memories to dig for more. “The ones he stopped after he married me.”

“What for? We know he’s running out of money or he wouldn’t be after ours.”

“There’s a good possibility they were crooked, and if they were, that means we have a fighting chance.”

She didn’t even ask how he knew. “I’ll get the lawyers on it immediately.”

***

Erik never made it to the ribbon-cutting ceremony for the mutant center. His phone rang over and over, but he didn’t answer it, staring blankly at the wall instead. The kids were quiet for most of the evening, apprehensive but afraid to ask, and Erik couldn’t bring himself to start the conversation.

He’d been a fool.

He tucked them into bed that night, and they didn’t even ask for a story. He knew they liked how Charles read much more than him anyway.

He retreated to his own bedroom and stared at the bed, sick at the thought of climbing in and being surrounded by Charles’ scent. He decided to sleep on the couch instead, and the lump digging into his back didn’t feel like near enough punishment.

He woke even more tired than when he went to sleep, and he and the kids had a quiet breakfast.

He could see that they were walking on eggshells, and Erik knew it was unfair to keep them in the dark to spare his own feelings. Charles had worked his ass off to bring structure and discipline into their lives and to help Erik become the parent he always should have been. He refused to waste Charles’ hard work, so he called them into the living room and had them sit on the couch.

He took a deep breath, ready to begin, but Wanda spoke first.

“Did Papa leave?” she asked.

“Yes,” Erik said, his throat suddenly tight. “Papa left.”

Her face fell. “Is he coming back?”

“No, Wanda.” He forced the words out. He needed to say them for the kids and for himself. “He won’t be coming back.”

“Why not?” Lorna asked. “Does he not like us anymore?”

Erik glanced up at the cracked ceiling and tried to blink back the tears.

“That’s not it, Lorna,” he said as gently as he could. “He left because I did a bad thing. This is my fault, not yours.” He kneeled so that he was at their level, just the way Charles always did. “I want you three to understand that. Charles left because of me. You did nothing wrong.”

They glanced at each other, obviously not convinced, and Erik felt the weight of his actions hit him full force all over again. “How about a hug?”

They had a group hug there on the living room floor, full of tears and whys and Erik knew he deserved this heart-wrenching pain, but the kids had done nothing wrong. They’d simply done what Erik had told them to, and along the way they’d learned to love Charles just as Erik had.

And, god, he loved Charles. Even now his heart was bursting at the thought of him -- his scent, his voice, his laugh.

But he’d done a terrible thing. He’d roped Charles in with Shaw and passed judgment, deciding they were equally horrible people in need of punishment, and he’d found joy in the revenge.

Charles was right. In the end, Erik had been no better than Shaw. Just because he loved Charles now didn’t mean that his sins were forgiven. He’d become the very monster he hated.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, burying his face in the children’s hair. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Eventually, people began to find out that Charles was gone. It was Moira who showed up first, after school the next Monday.

“I heard Pietro saying Charles left, and I haven’t heard a word from him.” Her brow was creased in worry. “Has something happened?”

Erik debated with himself for a moment, fighting against his urge to hide his actions and pretend that Charles had simply left him for not being a good enough husband. But, no, the thought of making Charles into the bad guy made his stomach roll. Instead, he invited Moira in, sat her down on the couch, and started from the beginning.

She started off looking revolted, but her face tightened and softened as the story went on, until Erik ended with Charles’ sister Raven appearing.

“And now he’s gone,” he finished, staring down at his own hands.

Moira was struck speechless, staring at him like she’d never seen him before. He fully expected her to slap him and storm out.

Instead she said, “Thank you for your honesty, Erik.” He glanced up at her. She took a deep breath. “I think you’re quite possibly the most despicable human being I’ve ever met, and why you didn’t just tell him the truth sooner, I will never understand. But Erik…”

He waited for her to gather her thoughts, completely ready for her judgment.

“It wasn’t all fake, was it?”

And somehow that question hurt more than any anger or disgust she could have thrown at him. “No,” he said, swallowing hard. “I loved him. I do love him. None of that was fake.”

Her expression remained hard, but her shoulders relaxed. “I’ll help you with the kids when I can. I know it’s going to be tough for you to do it alone again. But I’m doing this for them, and for Charles, who loved those kids more than anyone. Do you understand me?”

“Yes,” he said, grateful. It was more than he deserved and he knew it, but Charles inspired this kind of love and loyalty in people. “Thank you, Moira.”

Other people began to find out one by one, and Erik did his best to be as honest as possible without going into the gritty details like he’d done with Moira. He wasn’t sure Charles would appreciate their dirty laundry being aired and becoming rumors, but it was an absurd thought to have. Charles would never set foot in this town again.

Theresa didn’t talk to Erik for three weeks. He felt her disappointment keenly, as if it had come from his own mother. When she finally contacted him again, it was stilted and awkward. They still had to work together for the sake of the center though, so they pushed through it.

Alex and Armando were less forgiving. They cut Erik out altogether, and only spoke to him when they had no other choice.

Angel said she’d done some bad shit in her life and wasn’t going to pretend that she was better than Erik, but she was still more wary around him.

Logan, surprisingly, was the most supportive. “I know a thing or two about what it feels like to want revenge. There’s not much I wouldn’t do,” he said. “I don’t like you, Lehnsherr, but glass houses and all that shit.”

Azazel, of course, had known all along. “I saw it coming,” he said over beers. “Doesn’t feel very good to say ‘I told you so’ though, so I’m not going to say it. No fun in kicking a man when he’s barely keeping it together.”

“Thanks for that,” Erik said, and though the urge to get drunk enough to blackout and forget everything was strong, he stuck to only two beers to make sure he didn’t worry his kids.

Life went on, and eventually people stopped asking about Charles and eventually they even stopped glaring at Erik. For some reason, that made him feel worse.

Three months after the day Erik’s world came crashing down, he was sitting in the livingroom helping the kids with math homework when his phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Is this Erik Lehnsherr?”

“Yes. Who’s this?”

“Hello, Mr. Lehnsherr, my name is Garrett Webber and I’m an attorney from Aronoff, Rosen, and Hunt. I’m contacting you about a monetary settlement you’ll be receiving from Charles Xavier.”

Erik’s heart leapt to his throat. “What?”

“Sebastian Shaw has been found guilty on multiple charges, including fraud and money laundering. We have records of him granting you an illegal loan and seizing your property six years ago. As Mr. Shaw is currently bankrupt and in prison, his husband Charles Xavier is responsible for paying his debts and settlements.”

“Wait-- what?”

The voice went on unperturbed. “Accounting for emotional distress and current property values, Mr. Xavier has agreed to award you one point five million dollars in damages.”

Erik dropped the phone.

Pietro picked it up and handed it to him. “Dad, you okay?”

“Mr. Lehnsherr? Hello?” came the attorney’s voice and Erik brought the phone back to his ear.

“Yes.” His voice sounded strange in his own ears. “I’m here.”

“We’ll be transferring the money into your account the moment it’s verified. We’ll also be sending you an additional packet of information in the mail. If you have any further questions, please feel free to contact us anytime. Do you have any questions right now?”

He had a million questions, but he was pretty sure they weren’t the ones this lawyer was at liberty to answer, so he said, “No.”

“Thank you for your time.” And the phone went quiet. Erik lowered it slowly from his ear.

“Dad?” Lorna asked this time. He put a hand on her head and ruffled her hair.

“I’m fine. Just got a little surprise.”

No, a big surprise. Shaw in prison for his crimes. Over a million dollars to be deposited into Erik’s account. What the hell was Charles thinking? Was he still trying to save Erik, even now?

The money appeared in Erik’s account a week later with no fanfare, and he went from struggling electrician to millionaire overnight. The thought of using it made him ill, so he set it aside, moving it into a longterm account until he could figure out how to return it.

He was paying for daycare for the kids now that Charles was no longer around to help, but he’d saved a bit over the months Charles had been there and sticking to Charles’ budget allowed everything to run more smoothly. When he couldn’t handle it and things got tight, Theresa or Moira stepped in to help out, continuing to thaw in Erik’s presence bit by bit.

But the money continued to nag at him, and a week later he sat down, his phone in his hand, staring at it for a long moment before he dialed. “Aronoff, Rosen, and Hunt. This is Webber speaking.”

“Hello, this is Erik Lehnsherr. I’m calling to ask if there’s any way I could talk to Charles Xavier.” The name felt awkward on his tongue.

“Hello, Mr. Lehnsherr. Were you interested in re-negotiating your settlement? Mr. Xavier told me to help any of the claimants if they wished to begin that process.”

“No. I just-- I wanted to thank him. Is there any way I’d be able to do that?”

“I’m afraid I can’t pass along any contact information, but he does have a voicemail that he’s set up specifically for those who wish to contact him about their sum.”

“The voicemail, then. Please.”

“I’ll put you through.”

There was a short recorded greeting telling Erik to leave his message after the beep, and his hand tightened on the phone. A warning was sounding inside of him, telling him to hang up and leave it all alone -- both Charles and the money. But, no. Maybe it was selfish, but he needed to do this.

The beep sounded, shrill and mechanical. “It’s me,” he said and winced at the overly familiar greeting. “It’s Erik,” he amended.

There were so many things he could say, thousands of excuses and explanations. He could beg and plead. He could tell Charles that some days he missed him so much that it was hard to breathe. That some days Pietro would spot a black car and ask if maybe Papa was in it. That some days Wanda cried in the middle of the bedtime story, even when it wasn’t sad at all. That some days, Lorna would climb into his lap and wrap her arms around him and ask him not to go anywhere. But he couldn’t say any of those things, not when Charles had been right to leave him and Erik had no one to blame but himself.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry--” He swallowed down the waver in his voice. “--and thank you.”

He hung up the phone and buried his face in his hands.

For years, he’d thought of his life as two periods: before Magda and after Magda. But now he’d added another one: before Charles and after Charles. He felt like he was mourning a death for the second time.

He hadn’t known how hard it would be to live without Charles by his side. He hadn’t realized how deep and all-consuming his love for Charles truly had been until he’d lost him.

Perhaps he’d never been meant for love at all.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to [afrocurl](http://archiveofourown.org/users/afrocurl/pseuds/afrocurl) and [niniblack](http://archiveofourown.org/users/niniblack/pseuds/niniblackl)!

Less than a week after he’d left the message, Erik climbed into Magneto, frowning at the gradually sinking sun. He hadn’t realized how late it was, and he felt bad for making the kids wait. He knew Moira didn’t mind watching them, but he hated to take advantage of her continued kindness.

He grabbed his cellphone and called her.

“Erik?” Moira answered. “Are you finished?”

“Yeah, sorry to be so late. I’m on my way now.”

“No, uh… it’s...” Moira rarely hesitated, so now he was really paying attention.

“Did something happen?” he asked, his grip on the car keys tightening.

“You need to go down to the docks,” she said.

“What? Why?”

“There’s someone who wants to see you.”

Erik sat back, confused. “A client? Shouldn’t Azazel be telling me this?”

“Not a client. Trust me, Erik. You need to go. Dock five.”

_Dock five._ The same dock where Shaw’s yacht had been parked all those months ago. Erik started the truck in a rush, his adrenaline spiking. “I’m going now.”

“Good luck,” Moira said before he threw the phone aside. There was no way--

He drove across town, his pulse pounding so loudly it echoed in his ears. There was no way.

He pulled into a parking spot completely crooked and didn’t bother to correct it, jumping from the truck and sprinting down the dock. The fishermen were already in for the night, so it was surprisingly quiet aside from the waves and the creaking of the ships. Dock five came into sight, and there--

The silhouette was painfully familiar, from the tousled hair to the surprisingly sturdy shoulders. He was leaning against the railing, looking out into the water.

The name tumbled from Erik’s lips, “Charles.”

Charles turned around, his blue eyes nearly glowing in the light of the sunset. Erik’s breath caught.

“Hello, Erik,” he said.

Erik took another step towards him. There were so many things he wanted to say, but all that came out was, “What are you doing here?”

Charles smiled tightly, a guarded expression Erik recognized from the first weeks they’d spent together. “I had some unfinished business.”

“Ah.”

“I got your message. You’re welcome, of course, but the money is yours by law.”

“I don’t want your money,” Erik said with such force that Charles flinched. Erik’s heart squeezed at the sight. “I’m sorry,” he blurted, struggling to find the right words. “I didn’t mean it like that. Fuck-- I’m so bad at this. I mean, I don’t want to take money that I don’t deserve, not after what I did.”

Erik fidgeted as Charles studied him for a long moment.

“Would you...come here?” Charles asked, motioning to the spot beside him at the railing. Erik nodded, cautiously making his way closer, still not quite believing that Charles was right in front of him. He was wearing a peacoat and slacks, and everything looked expensive. Erik missed the sight of him in old t-shirts and torn jeans.

He stopped next to Charles, tentatively placing a hand on the railing. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” He tried to catch Charles’ gaze but he was looking away, out over the water. “I wanted to say I’m sorry face to face. I’m sorry. I did an unforgivable thing to you.”

Charles took a deep breath. “Do you regret it?”

Erik chewed on his lip for a moment. Honesty was all he could give Charles now. “I regret hurting you, and I regret how it all ended, but I don’t regret meeting you, and I definitely don’t regret falling in love with you.”

Charles closed his eyes. “I wasn’t sure what was real and what was fake. I needed to know.”

“I know it seems like all I did was lie to you,” Erik said, struggling to keep his voice steady, desperate to explain, “but everything I felt was real.”

“I know,” Charles said, his eyes finally fluttering open. “I can feel every one of your thoughts. They’re all ringing with truth.”

Erik hadn’t even realized Charles was in his mind, but then again, he’d never even known that Charles was a telepath until that horrible day.

“I promise I’m not digging around,” Charles added. “Just surface thoughts or especially strong feelings. It’s hard for me to block those out.”

“It’s fine,” Erik said, waving a hand by his head. He had nothing to hide anymore. “You can look for whatever you want.”

“I’m sorry for being so violent in your mind before," Charles said. "I don’t ever do that. It was a horrible thing to do.”

Erik laughed humorlessly. “I deserved that and more. I certainly don’t deserve an apology from you.”

Finally, Charles turned to face him fully, and Erik was struck again by his beauty. He studied his face closely, eyes raking over every detail. Somehow in all those months, though Charles had taken countless pictures of Erik and the kids using Erik’s phone, Erik had only one of Charles: a group shot taken after they’d won at the city council meeting, Charles’ face small and fuzzy on the screen. It hadn’t captured the true redness of his lips or the freckles dusting his cheeks. Erik drank in the sight of the real thing like a dying man at an oasis and took deep, long breaths of his familiar, perfect scent on the evening breeze.

Color rose on Charles’ cheeks. “You really do have a very loud mind, don’t you?”

Erik was startled out of his avid staring. “I do?”

“You do,” Charles repeated. “People with minds like yours are few and far between.”

Erik wasn’t sure if that was bad or good, so he just nodded, waiting for Charles to speak again.

“I’ve divorced Sebastian,” Charles said, and Erik’s heart leapt to life. “The chemical divorce process finished last week, and even the bite is almost gone.” Erik’s eyes darted to Charles’ neck, but he couldn’t see anything with the coat in the way. “It was expensive and painful but I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

“You didn’t marry him because you loved him.” Somehow Erik had always known that, and simply managed to sweep that thought aside the whole time Charles had been with him.

“No,” Charles said with a sigh. “Five years ago, he began trying to seduce my seventeen-year-old sister. She was young and he was very smooth and charming, telling her he’d whisk her off around the world. I tried to warn her that he wasn’t what he seemed, but she fought me, declaring that what they had was true love. He was forty-six years old, but Raven said she wanted to marry him.”

Erik let out a long, slow breath. “You couldn’t let that happen.”

“No,” Charles said with a rueful tilt to his lips, “I couldn’t. I was in England attending Oxford, but I rushed home. She refused to listen to reason and his powers made it impossible for me to touch his mind, so in a last desperate bid to save her, I seduced Sebastian myself.”

Erik thought he might be sick.

“I was twenty and just as foolish as Raven,” Charles continued, shaking his head, “but I wanted to save her. Sebastian forced me to drop out of school, so I never finished my masters.”

“A masters at twenty?”

Charles gave Erik a tentative smile. “Apparently I really am quick and clever.”

Erik wanted to reach out and touch Charles so badly that his fingers ached, and his fist tightened on the railing as he held back. “I always knew you were.”

Charles’ smile grew more steady, and the sight of it made Erik’s heart beat painfully hard. “You really are a flatterer,” Charles said, and for a moment, it was like they were back in Erik’s house and still in love and everything was okay--

No, it had never been okay, had it?

Charles’ face grew somber. “I bonded with Sebastian and began drinking heavily all the time just to block out the world. I was trapped and angry and I lashed out at anyone who came near, and I was too busy staring at the bottom of a bottle to see that I was making everything worse. I still didn’t see it coming though.” Charles’ gaze caught on the water. “Sebastian pushed me overboard that night--” The railing bent under Erik’s hand. “--and when I woke up on the beach, I wanted so badly for it all to stop, for everything to be over.” Charles swallowed heavily. “I sealed my memories shut and locked my telepathy away.”

A deep nausea rose in Erik’s gut. His revenge, this horrible thing he’d done-- he’d done it to someone who had already been suffering so much.

Charles lowered his eyes. “Please don’t pity me.”

Erik’s hand dropped from the railing. “I’m not, Charles. You’re incredibly strong. You don’t need my pity at all. You took care of that bastard yourself.”

Charles glanced back up at Erik. “Yes, well, I did win in the end. I ended up with the bill for all his crimes but I don’t care, I just-- I had to see everything he’d done. All the people he’d hurt and all the suffering he’d caused and I should have… I should have done something sooner.” Charles’ hands balled into fists. “I was just wallowing in self pity instead of trying to find a way out, and I--”

“Charles,” Erik interrupted as gently as he could. “You can’t blame yourself for any of this. You were a victim too. None of this is on you.” 

The tightness around Charles’ eyes didn't ease. “During the investigation, I found out what Sebastian did to you and your family."

Erik went very still.

“I don’t think he ever expected anyone would look more closely at a small hardware store, or he would have covered his tracks more carefully," Charles said. "I know this is probably poor consolation, but you were the key to bringing him down, Erik. I just want you to know that I understand why you wanted revenge, and I hope that him going bankrupt and rotting in prison will be enough for you.”

The familiar rage that had been Erik’s companion for years, the driving force that had made him vengeful and cold had completely burned out. He just felt empty. “It’s enough. It’s more than enough. I’ve lost more by obsessing over him than I ever would have if I’d just learned to let the past go.”

Charles’ whole body relaxed slightly, as if he’d managed to shuck something that had been weighing him down, but there was still a deep sadness in his eyes. “I’m glad to hear that.” He searched Erik’s face carefully before he spoke again. “I want you to live well, Erik, even though I can’t be here to make sure that you do.”

The words were an unexpected knife to Erik’s chest. He’d been foolish enough to think that maybe Charles had come back to be with him, that maybe they still had a chance. It was the death of the last of his hope. “I’ll do my best,” he managed.

The sea breeze swept Charles’ hair across his forehead. “I’m going back to school. I’m going to finish the degree that Sebastian wouldn’t allow me to finish.”

“Oxford?” Erik asked, feeling like Charles was already slipping away even though he still stood before him.

“Yes,” Charles said, pushing his hair from his face. “At least a year, probably more.”

“That’s good,” Erik said, trying to mean it. “Good luck. I know you won’t need it but, good luck.”

“Thank you,” Charles said.

Then Erik remembered something important. “Charles, wait here. Just one second, okay?”

Charles’ brow furrowed in confusion, but he nodded and Erik sprinted back to Magneto, throwing open his toolbox and taking what he’d come for. He ran back down the dock, panic rising in his chest at the thought that Charles might be gone.

He was still there, watching Erik cautiously. Erik jogged up to him, a bit out of breath. He held out his hand. “Here. For good luck.”

Charles stared down at the metal mouse, his eyes going slightly red. Suddenly Erik realized he might not want it, and he started to close his fist around it, feeling like a fool. Why would he want a reminder of every horrible thing that had happened to him--

“No!” Charles cried, grabbing Erik’s hand and prying the mouse from it. “I’ll take it!”

They blinked at each other, equally startled by his outburst, and Charles took a step back, biting his lip.

“I’m sorry, I-- Thank you,” he said, his hand shaking as he carefully tucked the mouse away in his pocket. “Please tell the kids you gave it to me.”

“I--” Erik hesitated, afraid to tell them that Charles had come but not stopped by to see them.

“I saw them earlier,” Charles said. “I stopped by Moira’s first and I told them I was sorry for leaving and that I love them and I explained I was going overseas to study. I gave Moira a laptop with my skype, so anytime they want to contact me, they can.” Erik’s eyes widened, and Charles’ words picked up speed at the sight, rushing from his mouth as his voice began to waver. “Should I not have? I didn’t know what to do-- I didn’t want them to think I’d abandoned them. I should have contacted them sooner but I just-- Everything was such a mess. I just want them to know that I still love them--”

“Charles,” Erik said, interrupting the babble. “Of course it’s fine. Thank you for doing that for them. They’ve missed you.” He swallowed down his own _I missed you._

Charles gazed up at him, blinking repeatedly against threatening tears. “I missed you too,” he whispered, answering Erik’s thought. “And I do love you, even now. I haven’t stopped loving you for a moment.”

Erik’s throat closed, his heart twisting in his chest. “I love you too,” he said, his voice breaking. “I think I always will.”

A tear escaped, rolling down Charles’ cheek. “But I haven’t forgiven you.”

Erik’s heart cracked, the sharp edges cutting him with every painful beat. He hated himself. At that moment, he truly hated everything that he was. He was nothing but a--

“No.” Charles cupped Erik’s face in his hands, his thumbs resting lightly against Erik’s cheeks. “No. You’re not a monster, Erik. You’re not Sebastian.” His wet cheeks were shining in the dying sunlight. “What I said was wrong. You’re nothing like him. You’re a fool, but there’s good in you too.” He took a shuddering breath. “So much good.”

Erik stared down at Charles’ tear-streaked face, at the man he loved more than life itself, who he’d hurt more than he could ever begin to atone for. “I’m sorry,” he said again, because there was nothing else to say.

“Me too,” Charles whispered, and then slowly pulled Erik down into a lingering kiss that tasted like tears. Erik closed his eyes and wished that time would stop.

The warmth of Charles’ hands left Erik’s face. “Take care, Erik.”

Erik stood motionless as Charles walked away, his footsteps slowly fading into the distance. Eventually he heard a car start and the sound of gravel under tires as it drove away, and he managed to pry his eyes open to stare out over the water at the disappearing sun.

“Goodbye, Charles.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe the end is near! I can see the finish line!
> 
> Please check out [this amazing fanart by Mikanskey](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5025109) featuring the kitchen scene!
> 
> As always thanks to [afrocurl](http://archiveofourown.org/users/afrocurl/pseuds/afrocurl) and [niniblack](http://archiveofourown.org/users/niniblack/pseuds/niniblackl) :)

Oxford was just like Charles remembered, completely unchanged, but everything felt entirely different. A few weeks passed before he realized that the thing that had changed was him. His first time at Oxford had been full of partying and drinking and doing everything he could to run from his family’s stifling expectations and ditch the irritating delicate, pure omega myth that seemed to pervade the upper classes. This time, he found those things much less interesting.

He spent his weekends studying in his flat or at a small coffee shop he’d found off the beaten path. He didn’t mean to become a homebody, but it happened -- he just wasn’t quite ready to fully face the world yet.

Besides, he had a nice apartment. It was small but had plenty of natural light so even the gray days didn’t seem so dreary. He had only a few pieces of furniture -- a couch, a table, some chairs, and his bed with a small bedside table. He placed the metal mouse on his bedside table like a small, silent guardian and every time he looked at it he felt such a swell of complex emotions that he didn’t even wish to parse them. He spent most nights reading under the watchful eye of his metal companion until he fell asleep, waking in the morning with arms stretched to the empty side of the bed, reaching for someone who wasn’t there.

Three months after arriving at Oxford, he went into heat. With a chemical divorce had come the stern warning that his heats may never return and his fertility would surely plummet, but Charles hadn’t cared. The doctors and nurses had pitied him, watching him with frowns and mournful eyes as they’d hooked him up to the IV drip, thinking so loudly that he couldn’t block them out, _What a shame. So young and so pretty and already used up._

They'd been more concerned that no alpha would want him in the future than they had been over the fact that he’d been unhappily bonded to a convicted criminal.

The heat hit hard and fast and he rode it out on his own, sweating and twisting in his sheets and desperately getting himself off to the memory of Erik’s touch, horribly, shamefully craving Erik’s hands on his skin. It lasted for three days and when the fog in his mind cleared, he took a long, too-hot shower and firmly reminded himself that fantasies during heat weren’t to be taken seriously. The next morning, he went to the local clinic and began taking suppressants immediately.

After that, he needed a new distraction, and he decided to add more classes. He could more than handle the load for his genetics studies, and when he’d caught sight of the humanities-related mutant studies classes, he couldn’t resist.

He arrived only a bit early to his first day of Early Childhood Mutant Education and took a seat right in the front row. Few students were willing to venture so far forward and Charles enjoyed the relative solitude. He pulled out his pens and notebook, arranging them carefully on his desk. Though almost everyone had moved onto laptops, he still took notes by hand, finding that he retained the information more easily that way.

He startled when someone dropped into the seat next to him, their bag hitting the floor rather loudly.

“Mind if I take a seat?” the man asked with an attractive smile. He was handsome, with a smooth accent and a strong jaw, and his thick, frankly luscious hair looked like it belonged in a shampoo ad with excessive amounts of fake wind.

“Looks like you already did,” Charles replied wryly, but the man just smirked and stuck out his hand.

“Remy LeBeau,” he said, and Charles took it, receiving a rather firm handshake.

“Charles Xavier.”

Remy’s eyes widened slightly but he didn’t comment, which Charles was extremely thankful for. Being the Xavier heir had defined him for far too much of his life.

“It’s the first time I’ve seen you around the mutant studies classes -- just sitting in for one?" Remy asked. "There aren’t a lot of us in post-grad.”

“Ah, no,” Charles said. “I’m usually over in the labs studying X-Gene presentation, but I thought I’d expand my horizons a bit.”

“Nice,” he said with such an easy, open expression that Charles envied him. Perhaps this man’s mutation was outrageous confidence?

Charles’ scenting abilities had finally started to come back more fully in the last month with his new heat past him, though the doctors had said he’d probably always have a less sensitive nose than before he’d gone into the ocean. Regardless, it was good enough now to know that Remy was an unmated alpha, and one that smelled very good, which was a sign of their biological compatibility.

Class started soon after, and Charles was fully absorbed. Having grown up in wealth and privilege, he’d never had a day where his powers hadn’t been catered to, and he’d had no shortage of help from tutors and experts to make sure he had gained excellent control. Of course, his family’s willingness to call in extra assistance had been less about wanting to help him and more about making sure his telepathy was kept politely under wraps, but the guidance had been invaluable regardless of their motivation. He’d learned a lot about the less fortunate side of childhood mutant education while helping to plan the youth center in Newport, but this class looked like it was going to be even more in-depth than he’d hoped.

He was quietly packing up his notebooks after class ended when Remy spoke again. “Hey, want to grab some coffee?”

It was a simple, friendly offer, but Charles bit his lip, hesitating. He hadn’t really made any friends since arriving, burying his mixed feelings and broken heart in endless hours of studying. Maybe this was a sign that it was time to take a step forward and start his life moving again. He could start small -- one cup of coffee with a classmate, just to give it a try.

He took a slow, steadying breath, and said, “Yes, sure. I know a great place.”

Remy and Charles became fast friends after that, and Remy even introduced Charles to all of his own friends one night after he convinced Charles to join him at a pub. For the first time since he’d celebrated the mutant center victory with Erik, Charles drank a beer and the taste didn’t leave him feeling cold and hollow. Remy’s friends were outrageous and eclectic bohemians, and Charles laughed so hard his stomach and cheeks ached. He woke up the next morning, greeted by his metal mouse and his newly expanded contact list, and felt...good.

When he sat down for his next weekly Skype session with the kids, his hair was messy and frizzy from a sudden downpour that had struck as he and Remy had been crossing campus. Remy had laughed his ass off as Charles had pouted over his notes getting damp.

Wanda, Pietro, and Lorna sat on Moira’s couch as they did every week, bouncing up and down with excitement. They usually couldn’t concentrate on him for very long, and their conversations were often woefully short, but Charles treasured them anyway.

“Papa, look!” Wanda said, holding up her spelling test with a 100% written across the top in red pen.

“A perfect score!” he said with a proud smile. “That’s my girl.” She blushed, fidgeting happily.

“I got a 96,” Pietro said rather sullenly.

“That’s a fantastic score, Pietro,” Charles assured him. “No one can be perfect every time.”

He nodded mulishly. “I’m gonna get the better score next time.”

“You will not!” Wanda said.

“Will too!” Pietro shot back.

Lorna silently watched her siblings, floating a paper clip around in the air.

“Did anything fun happen this week, Lorna?” Charles asked, attempting to pull her into the conversation.

“I met a girl who can make plants grow really fast,” she said, and Charles could tell she’d just been holding back and was obviously dying to tell him this. “I told Dad we should start a garden at the mutant center so she could practice and he said he thinks it’s a good idea.”

Charles hated that even with these conversations every week, his heart still skipped a beat every time one of the kids mentioned Erik. “A garden sounds wonderful. What would you like to grow?”

She launched into her list, and Charles listened, rubbing absently at the ache in his chest.

There was a bit of commotion from their end and Charles heard Moira’s voice in the background, distant and fuzzy through the connection. “You’re here early.”

Someone answered in low tones Charles could barely hear.

“Dad! We’re in here!” Pietro called and Charles forgot how to breathe for a moment.

Familiar jean-clad legs came into the frame and stopped mid-stride, frozen.

“Papa, Dad’s here! Do you want to talk to him?” Wanda started to angle the screen up and Charles panicked, his voice coming out too high.

“No! No, that’s alright. I have to go soon.”

The screen stopped moving right as Erik’s neck came into frame, and Charles could see Erik’s hand clench into a fist. “I’ll be in the kitchen with Moira,” Erik said in an odd voice. “Let me know when you guys are done.”

“Okay!” the kids chorused, and Charles watched Erik disappear from the frame, keeping his eyes on him until he was completely out of sight.

“Papa,” Lorna said, leaning forward and taking up more of the camera. “You still don’t want to talk to Dad? Are you still mad at him?”

Charles looked at her earnest, slightly pixelated face and tried to search for the answer.

He’d gone back to Newport all those months ago to face Erik and get some kind of closure, to look Erik in the eye so he could prove to himself that he didn’t care anymore.

He’d failed.

He’d spent months stewing over what he’d seen in Erik’s black, gnarled mind that horrible day when Raven had arrived, replaying Erik’s disgusting and hurtful thoughts, completely convinced that those were Erik’s true feelings. That no matter how gorgeous Erik looked on the outside, he was repulsive on the inside. Some days, though, a bit of doubt had niggled at him. Yes, Erik had spent three weeks torturing him, but he’d also spent months being the most amazing person Charles had ever known. 

Charles had fallen completely and irrevocably in love with him. Or who he’d thought Erik was. He’d fallen in love with the man who held him as he fell asleep and woke him up with grouchy morning grunting. The man who cooked with him and read stories to the kids with him and spent the evening with his face buried in the crook of Charles’ neck. The man who smiled proudly at him and told him he was perfect. The man who made Charles promise to never forget that he loved Charles, no matter what.

Was it possible that all of that had been fake? That each move had been calculated by Erik to deal the most damage? Charles had found that harder and harder to believe, but he’d known there was only one way to find out for sure. 

So he’d gone back to Newport. He’d stood on the docks with Erik and slipped back into his mind, and he’d found that it was nothing like he’d remembered. The dark, roiling mass that he’d assumed was Erik in his entirety was still there, but it wasn’t menace or a thirst for vengeance like Charles had originally hastily concluded in his anger. It was guilt, ugly and nauseating, but directed only at Erik himself, and the strength of it floored Charles, especially as it still managed to intensify when Erik heard the full story of Charles’ life.

In fact, there was such depth to each and every one of Erik’s feelings that Charles had been shocked to learn that such a lean body could support their sheer weight. The deepest emotion, though, the one that Charles had almost gasped at the feel of, had been love, bright and pure and untouched by any doubt. If there was one thing Charles knew with complete, solid clarity, it was that Erik loved him.

He’d thought about it for a weak moment, about staying with Erik and trying to learn to forgive him. But he couldn’t, not when he’d fallen in love with a life that wasn’t truly his. He knew he had to leave it behind if he wanted to find the life he truly wanted.

“Papa?” Lorna asked again, a bit unsure.

Was he still angry at Erik? Charles let himself think about it now, after months of putting it off because he was so desperate not to reopen a wound that bled so easily. But the wound ached more like a bruise now, a deep but muted pain.

He wasn’t ready to talk to Erik yet, but it wasn’t due to anger. He just needed more time. More time to figure out who he was and what he wanted.

Lorna was still waiting for the answer, and even Wanda and Pietro had stayed quiet, obviously curious themselves.

“No, Lorna,” Charles finally said, relieved to find that each and every word was the truth, “I’m not mad at him anymore.”

Lorna beamed at him. “That’s good,” she said. “Dad gets sad every time we talk about you, so I asked him if he wanted us to stop, but he said no.” She leaned toward the screen again, this time her voice dropping to tell a secret. “I think he misses you.”

It was like a slap on the still-healing bruise, new pain mixing with the old. “If he’s sad,” Charles said, struggling to keep his voice normal, “I want you guys to do me a favor and cheer him up.” He tried his best to look at each one of them, though he wasn’t sure how well it translated from the screen. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes!” Lorna said, grinning.

“Leave it to me!” Pietro said.

"I'll cheer him up best!" Wanda countered, elbowing Pietro out of the way, and Charles watched with a small smile as the three of them began bickering about who loved their dad the most.

After the call ended, Charles sat back on the couch, letting his head fall back so he could stare up at the ceiling. His room was dark and quiet. Even the rain had stopped, leaving Charles feeling like he was really and truly alone, protected by a blanket of silence and solitude. And thanks to that he felt safe enough to let himself think, _I miss him too._

As finals approached, Charles, Remy, and Anna Marie -- another girl they’d met in their mutant growth and studies classes -- spent increasingly long and late nights in the library. They weren’t always studying the same things, but the companionship was a nice reminder that none of them were alone in their suffering.

“Ugh,” Remy said, dropping his head on his open textbook and sighing. “I’m going to die.”

“You can die after you pass your finals,” Charles said primly, typing away on his laptop.

Remy looked up at him with narrowed eyes. “Damn, Xavier, that was stone cold.”

Anna Marie laughed. “I feel like death warmed over right now. Are you guys planning on staying out longer? It’s almost midnight.”

“Yeah,” Charles said, not even looking away from this screen. “I have to finish this report by tomorrow afternoon.”

Remy sighed again. “I need to finish this chapter at least. God, I wish I’d just read it when it was assigned.”

“That’s your fault, you lazy ass. I have no sympathy.” Anna Marie stood, packing away her books into her messenger bag. “Don’t have too much fun without me.”

Remy grunted at her and Charles gave her a distracted wave. Charles didn’t keep any track of time, but when he finally glanced at the clock on his laptop what he was pretty sure was only a few minutes later, it read 1:33 a.m.

He groaned. “We’re going to get kicked out soon.”

“Hmm?” Remy asked from beside him, stretching his arms above his head, his chair falling back onto two legs. His designer t-shirt rode up his rather defined abs, catching Charles’ eye.

Resolutely turning back to his laptop, Charles said, “Study rooms close at two.”

“Fuck.” Remy’s chair thumped back down. “Is it already two?”

“We still have thirty minutes left, but I don’t even know if I can use them,” Charles said. He blinked hard but his vision was still blurry. “I think I’ve reached my limit.” He pulled off his computer glasses that everyone teased him mercilessly for and threw them on the table, massaging the bridge of his nose. “What about you?”

When Remy didn’t answer, Charles glanced up to find that Remy was staring at him intensely, his eyes sweeping over Charles’ face.

“What?” Charles asked, but Remy didn’t say anything, turning in his chair so that he was facing Charles instead. The study rooms were small, and they were already sitting close, so Remy’s knees bumped the outside of Charles’ thigh. “Remy?”

Remy was leaning towards him and Charles didn’t know why, and once he realized, it was too late and Remy was already kissing him.

Charles froze. Remy’s lips were slightly chapped and his stubble was prickly and he smelled good but not _right_ and--

Charles didn’t--no, _couldn’t_ respond.

Remy drew back slowly, blinking his eyes open. The moment he caught sight of Charles’ face, his expression fell. “Shit,” he said, sitting back and giving Charles space. ”I shouldn’t have done that.”

Charles was reeling, his mind completely blank.

“I’m sorry, Charles,” Remy said, scrubbing his hand over his face, “for doing that without permission.”

Charles wiped his shaky hands on his slacks and managed to say, “It’s okay.”

“It really isn’t,” Remy said, shaking his head. “You can hit me if you want.”

“Hit you? What in the world--?”

“Not the face,” Remy said. “The face is important.”

Charles shoved at him, laughing despite himself. “You’re an idiot.”

Remy was grinning at him, but it wasn’t his usual cocky smile. Charles didn’t need to feel the somber grey of his thoughts to know he was a bit sad, to know that he’d been hoping. “Can I ask who he is?”

Charles blinked at him.

“There’s someone else, isn’t there? Someone you’re interested in. That’s why you don’t date. I thought it might be me, but looks like I was wrong.”

Charles sat perfectly still. He’d never mentioned Erik or the kids or Newport to Remy. He never talked about them to anyone. It was a part of his life he kept separate from everything else, boxed away like precious mementos for him to take out and admire and sometimes cry over every once in awhile before tucking them safely away once again.

“It’s kind of a long story…” he hedged.

“Great.” Remy clapped him on the back. “I was thinking it was time for a coffee break anyway. Your place or mine?”

Charles didn’t know how good it would feel to pour his heart out, even if it was in the middle of the night with finals approaching. Remy listened without much comment, though at some points he was visibly holding back.

“So you left him and came here?” he asked when Charles had finally gotten to the end, when he’d seen Erik at the docks.

“Yes,” Charles said. “It’s been… harder than I thought it would be.” Remy was looking at him pointedly. “To be away from the kids, I mean,” Charles added hastily.

“You’re not very cute when you lie,” Remy said, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. “I know you’re embarrassed that he fooled you, but he didn’t make you fall in love. You did that all on your own.”

“It wasn’t really him, though,” Charles objected. “I fell in love with who I thought he was.”

Remy raised an eyebrow. “Well, now you know who he is. Do you still love him anyway?”

Charles was struck speechless. 

Was it really that simple? He thought about the way that his heart still pounded at the mere mention of Erik’s name and his craving for Erik’s scent that had yet to fade, and realized that maybe it was.

Thankfully, Remy and Charles’ friendship recovered, and the two of them became even closer. Still, Charles was more careful after that, more aware of the signals he was or wasn’t sending to the people around him. He’d never thought it was strange that he’d been at Oxford for a whole year without going on a single date until Remy pointed it out to him bluntly, saying, “You’re a young, hot, brilliant omega. Half the campus wants you.”

It hadn’t taken much self-reflection to pinpoint the reason he simply wasn’t interested. Part of it was that he was still in love with Erik, of course, but it was more than that. He’d spent his life always under someone’s thumb -- Brian’s, Kurt’s, Sebastian’s, even Erik’s in a way. He’d never been able to be just be Charles. He’d never been able to truly know who he was without being defined by his relationship to someone else. Until now. He’d spent a whole year being no one but himself and it felt pretty damn good.

When he told this to Moira the next time he talked to her over Skype, she grinned at him. “You sound happy, Charles. Whatever you chose from now on, it’ll be a choice you make of your own free will. You’ve more than earned the right.” Her regard was warm, and even though she was halfway around the world, she felt incredibly close.

“Even if my choices seem foolish?”

She shrugged. “Don’t we all make foolish choices? I don’t think it’s a bad thing. Besides, life is full of risks. Don’t you remember that poster on my classroom door? You loved that stupid thing.”

Charles did. It was a motivational poster with a golden retriever slam-dunking a basketball with the words, _You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take_ , written across it in bold block letters.

“You think I should take a shot?” he asked her.

“I feel like we’re talking in a lot of metaphors here. Are you planning to do something stupid?”

“Maybe,” he said, chewing on the inside of his lip. He was the only one who could decide after all. He was the only one who could know what he really wanted. Moira leaned slightly forward, as if eager to hear what he’d decided. “Moira,” he started, his heart suddenly in his throat, “do you think Erik misses me?”

Moira blinked at him, obviously not expecting that. “Do I think he misses you?” she repeated, incredulous. “Charles, I _know_ he does.”

And the choice wasn’t difficult to make after that.

Three months later, he was in a cap and gown, receiving not one but two degrees. Raven flew out from California where she’d been pursuing photography. Charles could admit that her pictures weren’t exactly professional grade yet, but they were beautiful and blunt in their simplicity, much like the photographer herself. He’d invited Sharon as well, but she’d never responded. She was still apparently despondent over the fact that Charles had embarrassed her by going through with a taboo chemical divorce.

Raven pulled Charles into a giant hug after the ceremony was over, glaring over Charles’ shoulder at people who had stopped to stare at her. Even though mutants were commonplace, few of them were as striking as Raven.

“Two degrees?" she asked, squeezing him unnecessarily tightly. "Jesus Christ, you’re such an overachiever.”

Charles laughed into her hair. “I had a lot of credits left over from last time.”

“I don’t even care,” she said. “Learn to take a compliment.”

“I’m pretty sure that was an insult,” he said lightly, drawing back.

Raven’s eyes widened, catching on something behind him. “Hello,” she drawled.

Charles turned to find Remy standing there, his usual smirk on his face. He’d be graduating at the end of next semester, so he’d come today simply to support Charles. Raven waited rather impatiently as Remy gave Charles a hug, and then finally they were introduced.

“Raven, meet my friend Remy, and Remy, meet my sister Raven.”

Remy took her hand, bending to give it a kiss, and Raven melted.

“Where do you find these guys, Charles?” she asked out of the corner of her mouth. “It’s like a constant parade of supermodels around you.”

Both Charles and Remy laughed, and the three of them headed out for a celebratory drink. Anna Marie joined them later, and Charles had such a good time that he knew he’d miss the life he’d had at Oxford.

But not as much as he missed the life he was sure he wanted to have. The life he was now convinced he’d always been meant for.

“What’s your next step, Charles?” Anna Marie asked. “A PhD?”

“No,” Charles said, setting down his beer firmly. “I’ve decided I’m going home.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a long one! I hope you enjoy :D As always thanks to [afrocurl](http://archiveofourown.org/users/afrocurl/pseuds/afrocurl) and [niniblack](http://archiveofourown.org/users/niniblack/pseuds/niniblackl) :)

Moira waved from the porch as they drove away, and the kids waved back enthusiastically, always in a good mood on Wednesdays. Usually they spent their time after school at the mutant youth center -- now officially the MYC -- but Wednesday was Skype day with Charles and that meant they went to Moira’s instead. 

They were in an even better mood than usual though, bright-eyed and grinning. “Did something good happen?” Erik asked, curious.

“Papa graduated!” Wanda said, and Erik very carefully kept his eyes on the road.

“He did? Congratulations to him,” Erik said as normally as he could. He was used to getting news about Charles secondhand, but it never stopped stinging that he was always apparently the last to know. “Did you make sure to tell him congratulations?”

“Of course we did,” Wanda said in a huff.

“We did,” Pietro repeated, a grin in his voice. “And then he even said--”

“Pietro!” Wanda interrupted, and he went quiet.

“Said what?” Erik asked. 

“Nothing,” Wanda said as they came to a stoplight. 

Erik turned to study them, and their faces made it more than obvious that they had a secret. Then again, the secret probably had to do with Charles, and Erik knew he didn’t have the right to pry. Not to mention, eight year-olds weren’t going to be able to keep anything to themselves for very long. “Well, it’s good to hear he’s doing well,” Erik said, letting it go.

“Raven was there,” Lorna added. “She’s so cool, Dad. She can change her shape into anything. Papa explained to us how that works, but I didn’t understand.”

Erik laughed. “I don’t think I’d understand it very well either. If you study more, it’ll help.”

“Yeah,” Lorna said. “I want to be a scientist like Papa when I grow up.”

Erik didn’t know why that of all things made his chest ache. Would it always be like this? His kids having a relationship with Charles, growing and learning from him and adoring him while Erik sat on the sidelines begging for scraps? He hated that part of him resented the fact that his children could have what he never could-- Charles in their lives. He was ashamed of the ugly, twisted envy he felt, and he tried to bury it deep. If there was anyone who deserved love and stability in their lives, it was Wanda, Pietro, and Lorna who’d suffered so much from Erik’s bumbling ignorance as a parent.

“I’m sure Charles would be happy to hear that,” Erik said. “You should tell him that next time you talk.”

“Okay,” Lorna said with a smile. “I will.”

That night Erik climbed into bed and laid back, his eyes carefully avoiding the empty pillow next to him. He folded his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling, trying to think about nothing, but as usual, his mind wandered to Charles. 

Graduating already? He’d heard Charles was going after two degrees, and it had only been a year and a few months since he’d left. It felt both incredibly long and incredibly short. If he closed his eyes, he could still see Charles on the docks, tears streaking down his cheeks, but it was becoming harder and harder to remember the sound of his laughter or the sweetness of his scent. Erik rolled over, burying his face in his pillow. 

Charles was still in contact with the kids, though. And Lorna had told him months ago that Charles had said he wasn’t angry with Erik anymore. Erik knew Charles wouldn’t lie to the kids, not even about that, and maybe… maybe there was a bit of hope. Maybe there was still a chance that he would come back.

Erik sighed, willing his mind to clear so he could sleep. He slept fitfully most nights, and this one was no different.

***

For the next week, the kids were acting strangely. Though they fought a lot less than before, Erik was still confused to see them spending every spare moment together, even when they were at the MYC.

Angel told him they’d been using a training room for a few hours every afternoon, and while this in and of itself wasn’t unusual, all three of them had insisted they wanted to use the same room together. 

“I kept an eye on what they were doing, and it looked harmless, so I didn’t bother to separate them,” Angel said. “Should I next time?”

“No,” Erik said. “If they want to train together that’s fine. Thanks for keeping an eye out.” It was fine, of course, but he had no idea what they were up to. Trying to prank him perhaps? Training to impress their friends? Something Charles had put them up to? No, probably not that.

That Tuesday afternoon, Erik was out on a job, fixing a fuse box while the young homeowner stood watching. 

“You’re Erik Lehnsherr, right?” she asked, tilting her head.

“Yeah,” he said, trying to concentrate on what he was doing. “That’s me.”

“I saw you in the newspaper with the Mutant Youth Center. Can I ask you something?”

He stopped, turning to face her. “Yeah, sure. About the center?”

“My daughter,” she said. “She’s two years old and I think she may be psionic, but sometimes I’m not sure. Her speech is also delayed…”

Ah, this he could handle. He might have spent quite a bit of time studying psionics over the past year. “That’s common with psionic children. The director Jean Grey would be happy to talk to you. She’s a psionic herself and spent years working in the public school system’s mutant program. If you give me your information, I can hand it to her or you can always come down to the center.”

She smiled brightly. “Oh, thank you. I’ve just been so worried, and…”

“Jean’s great. She was a lucky find for us. She’ll definitely be able to give you some guidance.”

The woman nodded, her curly hair bouncing, and Erik got back to work. She stayed nearby the whole time, though she didn’t interrupt him again. When he was leaving, she handed him a paper with her number and smiled. “This is for Jean.” Shyly, she added, “But if you’d like, you’re also more than welcome to call me.” 

Erik stared down at her. She had big brown eyes, full lips, cheeks that blushed easily, and a nice, large chest, and two years ago, he would have jumped at the chance. Instead he said, “I’ll just give this to Jean,” and hoped he’d made himself clear.

Her smile fell, but she thanked him again.

_I’m not pining,_ Erik told himself as he got into Magneto, miraculously starting it on the first try. _I’m just not ready to let go yet._

And then he had to admit to himself… would he ever be?

“Hey, Erik,” Kitty greeted from behind the front desk as he entered the MYC’s main doors. 

“Kitty,” he said, approaching the desk and tapping his fingers on it. “Is Jean around? I wanted to talk to her about something.”

“Oh, Jean has interviews today,” Kitty said. “I think the one she’s with right now is the last though. You should have seen him, some frumpy guy with floppy hair--”

“Thanks,” he said, cutting her off. Theresa’s daughter was awesome and a great help around around the center, but she tended to be too chatty. Hiring was Jean’s area, and Erik wasn't interested in hearing about it until it came to final board approval. “Any idea where my kids might be?”

She tapped her lips. “I think I saw them in the gym, but it’s been awhile.”

He nodded, and headed down the hall before she could start adding more. He stuck his head into the gym first and found that Armando was there, watching as a group of kids played basketball. There was another group of children sitting on the bleachers, and a few in the corner with a jump rope, but he didn’t see his own anywhere.

Armando caught sight of him and waved. “They’re training!” he yelled over the screams and squeaking shoes.

“Again?” Erik called back.

“I’m beginning to think they’re plotting world domination!”

Erik snorted. “Honestly so am I!”

“Admit that that makes you proud!”

Erik laughed. “I won’t deny it!” He waved. “See you around!”

He continued down the hallway past the classrooms and sound-proofed music rooms until he reached the reinforced power training rooms. Angel was in the hallway as usual, observing the kids inside and making sure nothing was getting out of hand. 

“Hey, Erik,” she said, and pointed to room two. “They’re at it again. Whatever it is.”

“Thanks,” he said, approaching the door and peeking inside through the window. His kids were huddled close with their heads bent together. There were pieces of metal and something -- plastic? -- littered throughout the room. He watched them silently for a moment, charmed by their intense concentration, before he pushed open the door. 

“Did it work?” he heard Pietro say, and then Wanda spotted him. 

“Hi, Dad,” she said, looking completely innocent. Pietro kicked a piece of metal behind himself and it skidded across the floor. 

“What are you guys doing? Erik asked.

“Practicing like you told us to,” Wanda answered.

Well, he couldn’t argue with that. “You’ve been practicing a lot lately.”

“He didn’t see him?” Pietro asked Wanda.

“I don’t know. Maybe he’s not done?” she said to him.

Lorna said, “Let’s go check!”

“What?” Erik started, but the kids were already pushing past him and darting down the hall. 

“Don’t run!” Angel called, and Erik sighed, starting after them. _What the hell._

He caught up to them right off of the lobby. They were standing outside of Jean’s office door and furiously whispering amongst themselves. 

“What are you three doing?” he asked, exasperated. “You’ve been weird for awhile now.”

“Just wait,” Wanda said. 

“For what?” Erik asked.

Kitty was watching now with interest, leaning out over the front desk. “Something going on, Erik?”

“I don’t even know,” he admitted dryly to her before turning to the children. “Don’t you guys want to go home? It’s about time.”

“No!” they said as one, and that was understandable. Who would want to go back to their rickety dump of a house when they could be here in the clean and stylish MYC? 

The door to Jean’s office opened suddenly, and the kids backed away as Jean came out dressed in a red suit, pausing when she saw Wanda, Pietro, and Lorna staring up at her. 

“You guys were very patient,” she said with a smile. “You can have him back now.”

“What?” Erik asked.

“Papa, did it go well?” Wanda said, and Erik’s heart stopped.

He watched wide-eyed as Charles stepped out of Jean’s office and ruffled Wanda’s hair. Erik was sure Charles said something to her, but he didn’t hear it over the sudden rush of blood in his ears. 

He blinked hard, but the sight didn’t change. It was Charles, dressed in a tweed suit and carrying a briefcase, standing in the lobby of Newport’s Mutant Youth Center. Erik forgot how to breathe.

Charles looked up from the kids and his eyes locked with Erik’s. 

“Erik,” he said, so quietly it was almost a whisper. “You came.”

Erik’s eyes roved over Charles, noting the way his slightly shorter hair still curled around his ears and his bizarrely blue eyes still managed to be even more blue than Erik remembered. The suit made him look older and broader than he really was, but he still looked painfully young and gorgeous.

“Charles,” Erik said, swallowing hard on the name. “What are you doing here?”

Charles’ brow creased in confusion. “You don’t know?” 

“He’s here for an interview,” Jean supplied helpfully.

“What--” Erik started to ask but Kitty broke in.

“Wait. Charles? As in _Charles_ Charles? Like, _Erik’s_ Charles?”

“He’s not mine,” Erik said at the exact same moment Charles said, “ _Erik’s_ Charles?” and both of Kitty’s brows raised. 

“You know what I mean, Erik,” Kitty went on. “The one you go on about when you get drunk and always say is the most beautiful creature on the planet--”

“I don’t think what I say when I’m drinking needs to be repeated, does it, Kitty?” 

“Oh,” she said, nodding slowly. “Right. Sorry.”

There was an awkward moment of silence where they all stood in the lobby carefully not looking at each other. Finally, Jean cleared her throat. “Mr. Xavier,” she said, offering him her hand. “Thank you for your time today. We’ll be in touch.”

Charles tore his gaze from Erik to shake her hand. “Thank you, Ms. Grey.”

“He’s free now, right?” Wanda asked, and Jean looked down at her and nodded.

“He’s free.”

“Great!” she said, taking Charles’ hand. “Let’s go on a tour.”

“R-right now?” Charles asked, sounding a bit dizzy.

“Right now,” Wanda said.

Erik, whose brain was still trying to process the sight of Charles standing before him, finally managed, “Maybe he wants a break? Let’s not force him.”

Wanda’s face fell. “You don’t want a tour, Papa?”

Charles looked gutted by her disappointment. “Of course I want a tour,” he said, glancing up at Erik. “If your Dad says it’s okay.”

Three pairs of eyes turned on him, and there was no way he could say no. “A quick one.”

Wanda grinned and began pulling Charles down the hall, and Lorna ran after them, poking at Charles’ briefcase. Pietro dashed ahead and dashed back like an excited little puppy. Erik stood frozen to the spot, watching them walk away, still reeling. 

“Are you alright?” Jean asked with genuine concern. 

“I’m fine,” Erik said, though he wasn’t quite sure he was. “Just a bit surprised.” He didn’t know how much Jean knew since she hadn’t been hired until after the MYC had opened and Charles had been long gone, but most of the town had heard that there was a man named Charles whom Erik had loved and then lost, and he wasn’t foolish enough to think a telepath wouldn’t know at least the basics. 

Jean studied him, obviously sizing up his answer. “I didn’t realize who he was until your kids swamped him the moment he arrived. He’s incredibly qualified--” 

“Jean,” Erik interrupted gently, “if he’s the best man for the job, hire him. I’m not going to let any personal feelings interfere with this center.”

She gazed at him a moment longer before nodding. “I understand.” Her expression lightened. “Go join their little tour, Erik. Show him how hard we’ve all worked.”

Erik gave her a firm nod and tried to compose himself as he went after them, smoothing down his hair and straightening his shirt. He found them halfway down the hall, outside of the music rooms. Erik watched them for a moment, his eyes still unable to get used to the sight. Charles looked good, happy and healthy and laughing as he humored the kids. 

“Dad’s here. Let’s go to the next place!” Wanda said, pulling Charles’ sleeve and beginning to drag him along. “We’re going to see the training rooms.”

“Oh?” Charles said, keeping easy pace with Wanda’s shorter strides. Erik trailed behind them at a bit of a distance, leaving them space to talk. “I’ve read all about them. Have you guys been practicing a lot?” 

“Yeah! We practice in here!” Pietro dashed up to room two and tried to open the door, but it was locked. “Dad?” he said.

With a wave of Erik’s hand, the lock clicked open, and Pietro pushed open the door. Charles, even now, even after everything, looked charmed by the sight of Erik’s powers. 

With the kids’ encouragement, Charles stepped into the room, glancing around. Erik knew there wasn’t much to see. It was a plain square room with special alloy walls specifically suited for resisting various types of mutant powers. 

Charles approached the far wall, putting his free hand out to rest gently on it. “This is incredible. It even dulls my telepathy.” 

Erik noticed with a frown that the kids had left their pieces of plastic and metal all over the floor. “You guys need to clean up,” he said, stepping inside the room and summoning the metal pieces to his hand. Charles watched this with another small smile, and Erik’s eyes caught on his curved lips. It was difficult to look away.

Charles’ gaze didn’t waver, and they stared at each other for a small eternity, their eyes locked across the narrow room. 

The sound of the door closing startled them both, and Erik whipped around to see that he and Charles had been shut in by the kids. “Very funny,” he said. “You can’t escape clean up. This is your one warning. Do you want a time-out?”

But the kids didn’t answer, and then Erik felt it, the metal of the door changing slowly into something he didn’t recognize. He crossed to the door in two quick strides, reaching for the knob and startling to find that it felt different. 

“What the--?” The door, complete with knob and lock, had faded completely from Erik’s metal sense. “Plastic,” he murmured.

“Is something wrong?” Charles asked from close behind him and Erik nearly jumped. He hadn’t heard him cross the room.

“They did something to the door,” Erik said, still trying to turn the knob and failing. He looked out the small window in the door to find Wanda, Pietro, and Lorna grinning like crazy. “Hey,” Erik called to them, muffled by the glass. “What are you doing?”

“Fixing things!” Wanda said, her voice barely carrying through the door. 

Erik had no idea what that meant. “Whatever you did to the door, you need to change it back.”

“No,” Lorna said, surprisingly strongly coming from her. She turned away and sat against the door, disappearing from Erik’s line of sight. Pietro and Wanda did the same, and Erik couldn’t see any of them anymore.

He sighed, knocking on the door. “Come on, guys. Let us out.”

They ignored him soundly.

Erik was about to raise his voice and start demanding more firmly when he heard a strange snort-giggle from behind him. He turned to find Charles red-faced and laughing, his shoulders shaking. The sight struck Erik so deeply that the hand he’d been knocking with dropped limply to his side.

“I must look pretty foolish, huh?” he said, backing a bit away from the door. “I promise I’ve been keeping up with your discipline, but sometimes--”

Charles held a hand out, shaking his head. “No--no-- It’s not you, Erik. It’s the kids--” His words were coming out in between bouts of laughter. “--they think they’re doing us a favor.”

“What?” Erik asked. “How?”

Charles took a deep breath, fighting down the laughter, but still grinning. “They heard Moira and Theresa talking about us, and when Theresa asked if Moira thought we’d ever get back together, Moira said, and I quote directly from Wanda’s memory of the conversation, ‘Those stubborn idiots? Probably only if we bashed their heads together and locked them in a room.’” Charles looked tempted to laugh again. “She was joking of course but--”

“--the kids thought she meant it for real,” Erik finished, amused despite himself. 

“Yes,” Charles said. “They felt that bashing our heads together was a bit too violent, but it looks like they planned this part very carefully.”

Erik bent down to pick up one of the small plastic pieces from the floor. “Wanda was learning how to change metal to plastic.”

“Ah,” Charles said. “That’s why you can’t open the door.”

“I could kick it down, but they’re sitting on the other side.”

“Even if they move, property damage seems a bit extreme.” 

“True,” Erik agreed. “I’d rather just wait. They’ll get bored or Angel will come back around.”

“Right,” Charles said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Then we wait.”

They stood there in silence, staring at each other across the small, empty room. 

“Dad!” came Wanda’s muffled voice from outside the door, startling them both. “Did you say sorry yet?” Charles broke out into another smile that Erik couldn’t help but echo with his own.

“I’m working on it!” he yelled back.

“Okay, we’ll be quiet!”

In all the confusion, Erik’s brain had barely managed to process the fact that Charles was really here, real and whole. Now, alone together in an empty room, there was nothing else to focus on. 

“You came back,” Erik said, because that was all that mattered now. “I hoped you might, but…”

“Yes,” Charles said, all hints of a smile gone from his face now. “I told the kids I was coming today for an interview but it looks like they didn’t tell you.”

“They didn’t,” Erik said. “For an interview? Here? Are you--” He could barely squeeze the question out of his suddenly tight throat. “Are you planning to stay?”

Charles shifted so he was holding his briefcase in front of himself, both hands on the handle. “Yes,” he said. “I’m hoping to.”

“Oh,” Erik said, dumbfounded. 

“While I was at Oxford, I decided to study both genetics and childhood mutant education. I was surprised to see an opening for Assistant Director here, and--” He paused, his hands tightening on the briefcase handle. “And I wanted to come back here.”

“The kids will be happy,” Erik said. “Wednesday is their favorite day of the week because of you.”

Charles’ lips curved. “They were a great part of my week too. I hope I can see them often.”

“Of course,” Erik said. “Of course you can see them anytime. I never meant--” He couldn’t finish the sentence, his voice dying off. Charles waited patiently, his gaze never leaving Erik, and Erik finally managed to try again. “Everything I did to you and all those lies…I never meant to hurt the kids. I didn’t even think about how much it would affect them.” He laughed without humor. “I didn’t really think about anything.”

“I know,” Charles said, “I know that, Erik. I know how much you love your children.”

Erik nodded, finding it too hard to speak. Charles was coming back then. Charles wasn’t just here to visit; he was here to stay. Warmth kindled in Erik’s chest at the thought of him near, of being able to know how he was doing and make sure he was okay. It would be hard to live with the knowledge that Charles was close and Erik could never have him, but it was a sacrifice he was willing to make. Maybe someday he’d even be able to see Charles with someone else and feel happiness for him. 

“I have no excuses for what I did,” Erik finally managed, “and I know I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it a million times.” He forced himself to look straight into those beloved blue eyes. “I’m sorry.” The words still felt woefully inadequate, but they were all he had. “I hope everything works out and that you get the job.”

Charles was gazing at him with sad eyes, and suddenly Erik needed to get out. He spun on his heel, striding back to the door, ready to demand that the kids change it back. No matter what jokes Moira made, there was no chance of him and Charles getting back together. 

He never made it to the door. There was a slam as Charles’ briefcase hit the floor and then Charles was grabbing Erik’s arm, and Erik stilled instantly.

“Erik,” Charles said from behind him, voice oddly strangled. “I didn’t just come back for the kids.”

Erik’s pulse began to pound. 

“I had a lot of time to think at Oxford, not just about school, but about me and my life and--” Charles swallowed. “And about what I want.” He tugged gently on Erik’s arm, forcing Erik to face him. “I spent years hating everything in my life except for Raven. I didn’t have one happy memory, Erik. Nothing that I could look back on smile about except for Raven. Once I lost her, it was just misery. Until I met you.” His hand tightened on Erik’s forearm. “You tricked me and for those first weeks, I hated you and I hated my kids and I hated everything and I thought, how the hell is this my life?”

“Charles--”

“Please listen.” Erik shut his mouth. “For those few weeks I hated it, but the next months were the happiest I’ve ever been. Even once I got my memories back, those remained the very best months of my life. The kids and Moira and everyone who worked on the MYC, even Azazel... all the friends and connections I made were more true than anything else I’ve ever felt in my life.” He took a shuddering breath, looking Erik straight in the eye. “And you. I spent a over a year living without you, and I thought I’d be fine, I thought maybe the feelings would fade. And some of them did--”

Erik’s heart dropped, his chest filling with cold.

Charles shook his head so fiercely that Erik’s arm shook in Charles’ grip. “No. I meant my anger at you. I woke up one day and I realized I’d already forgiven you. I don’t know when it happened or why, but I don’t care. Erik--” He gazed up at Erik, his face a mix of sadness and determination and fondness and Erik’s breath caught. “Erik, I love you. I still do. And I want to learn how to trust you again.” He blinked hard. “If you’re willing to try--”

Erik yanked Charles into his arms, burying his face in Charles’ neck and holding him tight, breathing in his familiar scent, his chest aching with each breath. “Please, please, please,” he whispered almost mindlessly against Charles’ tweed collar. “I love you. I love you so much.”

Charles’ arms slid around him and then Charles was holding him back just as tightly, his nose brushing against Erik’s hair. He made a choked sobbing noise, shuddering in Erik’s arms and Erik suddenly realized what he’d done -- how he’d just grabbed Charles without permission and --

He tensed, trying to pull back but he didn’t get far because Charles held him tight, nestling his face against Erik’s neck and refusing to let him go. “No, no, it’s okay,” he whispered, his warm breath tickling Erik’s skin. “Stay right here. I’ve never been able to smell you so clearly.”

Erik stayed very still as Charles scented him for the first time without lies between them, and his hands fell automatically to Charles’ hips. Charles wriggled even closer, taking another deep breath. “You smell perfect,” he said, voice muffled. “I’m sorry, just-- a little bit longer, please.”

“As long as you want,” Erik said, absurdly thinking that he’d stay right here forever if Charles asked him to. He couldn’t help but wonder when he was going to wake up and realize he was still alone in his cold bed. 

“You’re not dreaming,” Charles said, and he certainly did feel warm and real in Erik’s arms, so Erik stayed where he was, with Charles holding him tightly, nose pressed to Erik’s skin.

After a long moment, Charles drew back, his arms sliding to Erik’s chest. He gazed up into Erik’s eyes. “I want to start again, Erik, from the beginning.”

Erik’s heart felt so full he thought it might burst in his chest. “Anything, Charles. I’ll do anything.”

Charles’ lips curved into a familiar sweet smile. “How about dinner on Friday night?”

Erik actually laughed, shaky but real. “Are you asking me on a date?”

“Yes,” Charles said. He pressed a kiss to the side of Erik’s jaw, and for some reason, even with everything that had passed between, that was enough to make Erik’s face heat. “Say you’ll go.”

“Of course I will,” Erik said. “Of course.”

“Then it’s a date,” Charles said, his hands sliding up from Erik’s chest to cradle his face and pull him down into a sweet, chaste kiss, so close to that kiss they’d shared over a year ago on the docks, but flavored with hope instead of tears.

The sound of the door opening behind them had Erik looking back over his shoulder in a flash, reluctant to take his hands from where they were still resting on Charles’ hips. 

The kids were standing in the doorway wide-eyed.

“It worked!” Wanda cried. “Ms. MacTaggert’s a genius!”

And for the first time in a long, long time, Erik laughed so hard and for so long that his belly was sore. 

Word of Charles coming back to town spread quickly, and from what Erik heard, Charles had a constant stream of visitors at the small house he’d rented. There wasn’t a person who wasn’t happy to see him back, and Erik hoped, for Charles’ sake, not too many people were asking too many questions about why he’d come back after all. 

On Wednesday Erik stopped by to pick up the kids at Moira’s house. Even though there was no more need for a Skype session, they liked being there and she enjoyed having them. She let Erik in, and he saw that the kids were in the living room, working on homework. 

“Coffee?” she offered and Erik nodded, following her to the kitchen. 

They’d come to a truce and formed a good friendship in the past year and half, and it wasn’t at all unusual for them to sip some coffee in her small, tidy kitchen. “I heard an interesting story about Dad and Papa kissing in a training room,” she said with a smirk.

Erik groaned, scrubbing his hand over his face. “You know they were motivated by something you said, right?”

She laughed. “Charles told me, and honestly, Erik, I’m waiting to hear a thank you. I certainly hope you thanked them.” 

“I did,” Erik said, and he had. He’d also added that they shouldn’t go around locking people who have had fights in rooms together because that was illegal and usually didn’t end well. “And thank you, Moira.”

“I’m glad it worked out.”

“You knew he was coming back. I bet you even knew about the interview.”

“I did,” she said, not looking at all perturbed. “And I know about your date this Friday. When are you going to ask me to watch the kids?”

Erik tried to hide his smile in his mug. “Will you watch the kids on Friday night?”

“Of course I will,” she said. She took a calm sip before looking him straight in the eye, her gaze fierce. “Don’t screw this up, Erik. This is your last chance.”

“I know,” he said, somehow managing not to flinch under her glare. “I promise I won’t waste it.”

***

That Friday, Erik changed his shirt three times before finally deciding he looked presentable enough, and he still made it to the restaurant nearly fifteen minutes early. The weird mixture of nervousness and eagerness made him feel a bit jumpy as he waited outside of the cute, little Italian place right on the water that Charles had chosen. He straightened his collar again, beginning to wonder if he’d overdone it with a crisply ironed button up shirt, when a sleek red sedan pulled into the parking lot. Erik’s pulse picked up as he waited for Charles to pull off his shades and carefully tuck them away into a case before climbing out.

“Did I make you wait?” Charles asked, jogging up to Erik.

“No,” Erik told him, “I was early.” He looked Charles up and down, relieved to see he’d gone with a button up as well. Erik didn’t know much about date etiquette -- he hadn’t been on a date in nearly 10 years -- but he knew complimenting your date was important. “You look--” He wasn’t sure what the right word was. Charles always looked good in Erik’s eyes, but knowing that Charles had picked out this outfit and styled his hair carefully just to see Erik was humbling. Erik didn’t care if love made him biased. Charles really was the most gorgeous man on the planet. This was a first date, though. He should probably tone it down. “You look nice.”

Charles’ cheeks were pink. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to just how loud your mind is.”

Erik blanched. Was that bad? Was he already ruining this?

“No,” Charles said quickly. “I like it. It suits you.” The blush was deepening. “You have a beautiful mind, Erik.”

Now it was Erik’s turn to blush awkwardly. “Thank you,” he said. “You know you’re always welcome in my mind, right? I really mean it.”

“I know you do,” Charles said with a smile. “Shall we go inside?”

“Oh, yeah.” Erik hurried to pull the door open for Charles. “After you.”

“So formal,” Charles said teasingly. “By the way, that shirt looks great on you. You picked the right one.” His smile turned to a smirk. “But you were wrong about one thing -- I’d say you’re the most gorgeous man in the world, not me.”

Erik laughed, some of the tension draining from his body. Charles really did want to be here. Erik really was getting a second chance. “Looks like we’ll have to disagree on this one.” 

They were seated at a table on the patio, in full view of the water and surrounded by candles and lanterns. After getting their first glasses of wine, Charles let Erik know he got the job, and they celebrated with a toast and enough food to cause a coronary. Charles peppered Erik with questions, but there wasn’t much to catch him up on--especially because the only significant thing that had changed in Erik’s life was the MYC, and Charles had studied up on it for his interview. There was plenty for Charles to tell Erik about, however, and Erik listened to it all, amazed that Charles was sitting before him, smiling and laughing as his eyes sparkled in the candlelight. Erik had thought this was something that he would never have, and his heart ached so profusely at the sight that he was rubbing at his chest the whole evening. He didn’t understand large parts of Charles’ lecture about the specifics of the X-Gene, but he did get drawn into Charles’ seemingly boundless knowledge about mutant education. 

Even though Erik had started out nervous, dinner was so easy and fun that he felt that perhaps this wasn’t real after all. That everything was going too right, and the prank that was being played on him was about to be revealed at any moment.

But even after they left the restaurant and strolled out along the shoreline, gazing out at the water, there was no sign of this dream ending. Charles seemed content to walk beside him in comfortable silence, a gentle smile gracing his lips.

They’d gone quite far when Charles stopped suddenly, staring down at a seemingly normal spot on the beach. 

“That’s where I washed up,” he said quietly. “I can’t believe it’s only been a little less than two years. I feel like I’ve lived a lifetime.”

Erik glanced at him, watching as the sea breeze swept his hair across his forehead. “A lot happened.”

Charles huffed out a laugh. “That’s an understatement.” He reached out, taking Erik’s hand and twining their fingers together, and Erik’s whole body warmed from the touch. “If I’d known I was going to end up here, I would have jumped off of the yacht myself.”

“Charles, don’t joke about that. You could have died--”

Charles turned to look at him, his grip on Erik’s hand firm. “But I didn’t. I met you.”

Erik swallowed hard.

Charles’ grip on his hand tightened. “Erik, do you believe in fate?”

His eyes searched Charles’ face. “No, I’m more of a believer in luck.”

“Ah,” Charles said. “In that case.” He reached into the pocket of his slacks and pulled out a familiar metal creature.

Erik couldn’t believe it. “You still have that?”

“Of course,” Charles said, sounding offended. “This little fellow got me through long, sad nights, tons of finals, and even an interview. I had him in my pocket when I talked with Jean.”

“That’s--” Erik had no words. Charles had just shown him that in all the time they were apart, he and the kids had never been far from Charles’ thoughts. He’d known this logically of course, but the metal proof staring him the face made it more real. “That’s--” he tried again.

“--a rather great good luck charm?” he finished for Erik. “I brought it on our date tonight too, for good luck.”

Erik suppressed the smile that wanted to break out. “And how did it work?”

“Pretty well,” Charles said, his eyes dancing, “but I’m still waiting for a kiss.”

“Then you’re in luck after all,” Erik said, laughing as he tugged Charles close and pressed a smiling kiss to his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only the epilogue is left now!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slight delay. Here's the epilogue!

**Nine Years Later**

“Wanda!” Charles called upstairs with David balanced on his hip. “You’re going to be late!”

“I know, Papa! Sorry!” she yelled back. “Tell Pietro five more minutes! I messed up the eyeliner on one eye!”

He sighed, frowning down at David. “Your sister’s a perfectionist.” David just gave him a big smile and tried to grab his hair, but Charles dodged easily. In the past month, David’s telepathy had grown to the point where he often unwittingly projected what he was going to do before he did it.

Charles made his way back to the kitchen where Lorna and Pietro were waiting, both completely absorbed in their phones. Charles rolled his eyes. Teenagers. At least they looked nice. Pietro was in slacks and a polo shirt and Lorna was wearing a rather charming yellow dress.

“Where’s your dad?” he asked them.

“The garage,” Pietro said without looking up, and Charles’ lips thinned.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered, re-adjusting David on his hip and stomping across the kitchen and through the door into their four-car garage. Okay, so maybe Charles had gone a little overboard when they’d decided to build their own house here in Newport after they’d gotten married. He’d been coming off of a wedding high and thinking that he had more money than anyone on the planet needed, and it was easy enough to decide to build a new house just the way their family wanted it. It might have become slightly more of a mansion than a house, but hey, at least each of their four kids had their own room. And the guest rooms had been necessary too. Where else was Raven going to stay?

Erik was right where Charles had thought he would be, Magneto’s hood open and Erik up to his elbows in grease. He looked up the moment Charles walked into the garage and gave him a smile that was all teeth. “I think it’ll start.”

“No,” Charles said, brokering no argument. “We are not driving your twenty year-old, more-than-half-dead truck to our children’s high school graduation. No.”

Erik stood up, wiping his hands on an already filthy towel. “Come on, Charles. Magneto’s been there for all of our big milestones.”

Charles couldn’t argue with that. Erik had driven it to their wedding and even to the hospital the night Charles had gone into labor with David. He looked from his handsomely pouting husband to their old beat up truck, and couldn’t help the bit of nostalgia that rose him in. “Alright, fine. Make sure the car seat is ready by the time I get out here. I highly doubt Lorna is going to want to squeeze in the back with David, so I’ll tell her to just go early with Wanda and Pietro.”

Erik’s toothy smile made a reappearance. He strode over to Charles and David, giving Charles a peck on the lips and David a kiss on the head. “Think he’s going to be okay? There’ll be a lot of people there.”

Erik’s endless amount of concern for David was adorable. Charles’ job at the MYC was important and demanding, so they’d agreed that Erik would be the better option to stay home and care for him. Erik had actually jumped at the chance, joking that he couldn’t wait to laze around at home all day, but Charles knew the real, much sadder reason behind it -- his determination to do right for this child everything he’d messed up with Wanda, Pietro, and Lorna.

“I’ll keep him shielded,” he assured Erik. “He’ll be fine.”

“Okay, good,” Erik said, pressing another kiss to Charles’ lips, deepening it even as David struggled a bit in Charles’ arms and reached out to grab a fistful of Erik’s shirt.

“Oh--Gross!” came a voice from behind them. It was Wanda, lips twisted. “Can you guys stop? Seriously?”

“It’s not my fault Charles is so sexy,” Erik said, and Wanda stuck out her tongue at him.

“I’m ready to go, by the way,” she said.

“Okay, good,” Charles said. “Will you take Lorna with you and Pietro, please? We’ll come in Magneto.”

She stared at them. “Magneto? You’re not serious.”

“Dead serious,” Erik drawled, and she rolled her eyes.

“I have the most embarrassing parents,” she muttered, turning to go back into the kitchen.

The kids took off first, but the ceremony itself didn’t start for another few hours, so Erik and Charles had time for a leisurely morning. Erik disappeared to the shower and Charles sat down to feed David peas, struggling as David constantly turned his head aside and rejected the spoon. Charles was still cooing and coaxing when Erik remerged with his hair wet and curling slightly.

Erik paused at the kitchen entrance, staring at Charles and David. David grabbed the peas from the spoon, smashed them onto his high chair, and squealed in delight as Charles sighed.

“Are my struggles amusing?” he asked Erik wryly.

“Mostly just adorable,” Erik said, and Charles turned a frown on him only to find that Erik was smiling so fondly that he blushed instead.

He knew Erik was partially teasing, but he could also feel the twinge of bittersweetness to Erik’s thoughts. They’d spent nearly six years of heats together without any birth control, and with no signs of a pregnancy, they’d pretty much given up hope.

A year and half ago, when morning sickness had struck hard and Charles had started each day hunched over the toilet throwing up, Erik had been so overjoyed that Charles had been pissed off.

“I’m sick. Can you please try not to enjoy this?”

“I’m not enjoying you being sick,” Erik had protested, kneeling on the bathroom floor and dabbing at Charles’ face with a cool cloth. “I’m enjoying you being pregnant.”

“I hate you,” Charles had groused, but he’d leaned into Erik’s touch anyway, so comforted by his alpha’s presence that he couldn’t stay angry.

Charles knew he'd been a grouchy nightmare during the pregnancy, but the memories made him smile now.

“Can you finish feeding him while I go and change?” Charles asked, putting down the peas.

“Of course,” Erik said, taking Charles’ seat and picking up the spoon. Charles paused to watch as Erik thought very loudly and very clearly that peas were delicious and then began waving the spoon around and making airplane noises. David giggled happily and opened his mouth, eating without protest. Who could have guessed that his foolish alpha would be so great with babies after all?

Charles retreated upstairs, pulling off his pea-stained shirt and throwing it into the hamper. He thought about changing his slacks, but decided they could pass muster and headed over to the dresser to retrieve an undershirt. He paused at the sight of their wedding picture which was displayed proudly next to their metal mouse. All of their friends and family were in the picture, smiling and laughing, even Remy and Anna Marie, who’d ended up getting married to each other.

Erik and Charles were in the middle, of course, Erik in a black tuxedo and Charles in a white one, which had been perhaps the only traditional part of their wedding. The ceremony had been quick and heavily involved Wanda, Pietro, and Lorna, and the majority of their extremely hefty budget had gone to food, drink, and entertainment. Charles finally got to have the romantic first dance he’d always dreamed of at his wedding, and it was made even better by the fact that they’d waited a solid two years before finally deciding to tie the knot. Two years of easing back into each other’s lives and rebuilding their trust on a strong foundation meant that he knew they could really live happily ever after this time.

He looked at his own grinning face in the picture as he pulled out an undershirt and began blushing as he pulled it over his head. He’d finally gone off suppressants after the wedding, still nervous at the thought of being branded by a bite once again, but knowing deep down in his heart that he wanted to spend every moment of the rest of his life with Erik.

The first heat hadn’t been perfect, but it had been everything Charles had always hoped for, and after Sebastian, thought he would never have. It was a bit messy and overwhelming and awkward, and Erik had obviously been taken aback by his own body’s urge to pin Charles down and fuck him raw. But Erik had managed to overcome his most base instincts, and had been caring and kind, even when Charles had fallen into the deepest throes, begging mindlessly to be mounted over and over and over as his slick ran down his thighs and ruined the bed sheets. Erik had calmed him down, cleaned him up, and made sure he ate and drank in between bouts of fucking his brains out. And when Erik had finally bitten down into the flesh of his neck and marked Charles as _his_ , his knot stretching Charles in the perfect ecstasy of pleasure-pain, Charles had actually blacked out for a moment.

Charles startled as Erik walked into the room carrying David.

“Taking your time time, I see,” Erik said, eyeing Charles’ still mostly undressed state.

“Just reminiscing,” he said casually, not really wanting Erik to know that he was basically standing up here fantasizing about his knot. He hastily grabbed a shirt and buttoned it up while Erik bounced David on his hip, making him giggle happily. He heard Erik’s phone beep as he was fixing his hair.

“It’s Raven,” Erik said, phone in one hand and David in the other. “She wants to know if we’re going to pick her and Irene up.”

“In Magneto?” Charles asked. “Of course we aren’t.”

Erik frowned.

“If you really want to pick them up, we could just take the BMW--”

“Never mind,” Erik said quickly. “They can make it on their own.”

***

It was a beautiful spring day with a cloudless sky and a light breeze. Charles didn’t cry during the graduation ceremony, but Erik did, doing his best to hide it and failing miserably. David frowned up at him from where he was seated in Erik’s lap, extremely sensitive to his father’s mood even with Charles shielding him from the crowd.

Charles knew Erik was struggling with the idea of learning to let his children go now that they were adults. It certainly didn’t help that Wanda looked just like Magda as she was handed her diploma, her unruly curls framing her face as she beamed with a smile that was so bittersweet for Erik that Charles sent him the mental equivalent of a hug, hoping to calm the ache.

 _She would have been very proud of them,_ Charles said with the most soothing mental voice he could manage.

Erik wiped at his eyes and gave Charles a small, shaky smile. _Yeah._

After, there was a bit of chaos as everyone gathered around into a loose group, laughing and catching up. Raven and Irene had drawn the attention of Theresa, who was suffering from empty-nester syndrome now that Kitty had moved out of state and was desperately trying to convince them to move to Newport. Charles was pretty sure Raven was actually contemplating this since she and Irene were looking to settle down after all the years they’d spent traveling the world together. The thought of having the two of them near permanently was a happy one, but Charles knew better than to try to push.

Angel and her girlfriend were chatting happily with Alex and Armando, who’d brought their eight-year-old son Evan along. Evan himself was showing Azazel the new gloves he’d gotten last month that allowed him to more easily control the energy he shot from his hands. Moira and Jean were off to the side, deep in conversation and looking rather serious. Charles assumed they were going over more plans to expand the district’s after school programs at the MYC and he had to resist the urge to scold them for once again bringing work to events that were supposed to be fun. He loved them dearly but they were both complete workaholics.

Before he could interrupt them and direct them to a lighter topic, Lorna sidled up next to him, elbowing him lightly. “Papa, it’s happening again.”

“Hm?” he said, turning to her and finding her face contorted into a rather amusing scowl.

“Dad and his fanclub,” she said.

Charles followed her line of sight, and sure enough, there was Erik surrounded by a flock of teenage admirers. He was holding David and looking thoroughly harried as the group of mostly beta girls cooed at both him and the baby. Charles let out a laugh. “You know he can’t do anything about it. He certainly doesn’t encourage it.”

“I know. He barely says a word to them, and then they go on and on about his mysterious and cool demeanor. We should invite them all over so they can see him dance whenever that mattress commercial with the jingle he likes comes on TV. That’ll break their image.”

“I don’t know,” Charles replied. “He’s a good dancer so that might have the opposite effect.”

Lorna turned her scowl on him. “Are you kidding me right now?”

Charles blinked at her. “No. I like when he dances. He looks good.”

“Confirmation that love truly is blind,” she said, and Charles laughed. He had to concede that it might be true. They watched as one brave girl reached out to pet Erik’s bicep. “Should we save him?”

“Let’s let him navigate this one on his own,” Charles told her, but Lorna wasn’t listening to him anymore, her eyes narrowing at the group around Erik. Pietro had elbowed his way into the throng of fawning admirers and was taking David from Erik’s arms in an obvious ploy to direct the attentions of the pretty girls his way.

“Oh no way,” Lorna said, beginning to stomp toward the ruckus. “No way am I letting that idiot use my little brother as a prop to get laid!”

Charles watched her go, a smile playing on his lips. He’d worried about the massive age difference between David and the older kids, but if anything they were far more doting and overprotective than necessary. He watched proudly as Lorna pushed into the group, ready to take Pietro down a peg. She really had grown up splendidly.

Erik managed to use this distraction as a chance to escape and made his way over to Charles, straightening his collar that had gone askew.

“Have fun?” Charles asked with a smirk.

Erik shot him a look. “Did that look fun?”

“I certainly had a great time,” Charles said.

Before Erik could retort, Wanda let out a yell, and broke away from her group of friend. “Logan!” she called, running across the grass and launching herself at him in a big, enthusiastic hug.

“And here I thought he wasn’t going to show,” Erik said.

“You know he wouldn’t miss anything that was important to Wanda.”

Erik made a face so similar to the scowl Lorna had been wearing earlier that Charles couldn’t help but smile. “Do you think…” Erik started and then stopped.

“Do I think…?” Charles prompted.

Wanda linked her arm through Logan’s, gazing up at him adoringly as they talked.

“That,” Erik said. “ _That.”_

“You mean that she has a crush on him?” Charles asked.

“Oh my god,” Erik said. “She really does? I owe Azazel twenty bucks…”

Charles narrowed his eyes. “You’re making bets about your daughter’s possible crushes?”

“But it’s Logan!” Erik objected. “He’s more beast than man!”

“Erik,” Charles said, biting back laughter, “when are you going to stop pretending you hate him?”

“Never,” Erik mumbled, crossing his arms.

Charles just shook his head. He loved Erik dearly, but he was a stubborn idiot sometimes.

As much fun as it looked like everyone was having catching up with each other, they couldn’t stay here all day. School might be out, but it was still a workday and the MYC was definitely open.

“Okay, guys, picture time!” Charles called out, cupping his hands around his mouth to increase the volume. If he’d added a little psychic touch, well, no one had to know. “I’ve got to hurry and get to work.”

“Ah, yes,” Azazel said, sauntering over. “I keep forgetting that Erik is the househusband. I didn’t see that coming.”

“I totally did,” Moira said. “Don’t you remember how annoying he was when Charles was pregnant?”

Charles ignored them, rolling his eyes, and tried to force everyone into two rows. It was a mess, but they somehow all managed to crowd together. After making sure David was happily settled in Lorna’s arms, Charles took his place next to Erik in the back row, hoping that he wasn’t too short to be seen over Moira’s head. Erik put his arm around Charles’ shoulder, pressing Charles close to his side, and Charles slipped his arm around Erik’s waist.

As the parent they’d flagged down and asked to take the picture struggled with Raven’s expensive camera, forcing her to duck out of the group to assist, Erik snuck a kiss to the bite on the back of Charles’ neck.

“Stop that,” he hissed, shoving lightly at Erik. “You know that turns me on.”

Erik laughed and pressed a kiss to his cheek instead. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re not,” he said.

“You’re right,” Erik said with a smirk.

Charles pinched him, enjoying his small flinch, and sent, _later_ , into Erik’s mind along with a rather explicit image of exactly what later would entail. Erik’s breath quickened.

The camera situation finally resolved, and Raven ran back to her spot in the line.

“Okay,” the parent said, “Everyone say, ‘cheese!’”

“Cheese!” they all yelled, and Erik’s arm tightened around Charles as all of his family and friend’s happy, buoyant thoughts filled the air. Charles smiled so hard he thought he’d never stop.

He was still smiling later that night when he pressed Erik down into the sheets, straddling him and slowly taking Erik’s cock, inch by tantalizing inch. Erik was breathing hard, staring up at Charles with bright eyes and doing his very best to keep still as Charles adjusted. Even after all these years, Erik’s cock still stretched Charles to his very limits, and Charles was addicted to the feeling. Charles began to move, letting out small moans as he ground down onto Erik, and Erik’s hands found his hips, holding on tightly but still letting Charles set the pace.

Charles shifted with each small thrust until he found the angle that hit _just right_ , leaning forward to rest his hands on Erik’s toned chest, loving the feeling of having his alpha so docile beneath him.

Erik bit his lip as Charles’ movements began to speed up. “Fuck, just look at you--” he groaned out.

A skillful roll of Charles’ hips made both of them gasp, their rhythm stuttering, and that seemed to be the last straw. Erik’s hands on Charles’ hips tightened, and he arched up, thrusting into Charles from below.

“Oh god--” Charles choked out, letting Erik use his grip on Charles’ hips to slam Charles down onto Erik’s cock over and over. “Yes, Erik, right there--”

Erik’s face was slack with pleasure and sweat was beading at his temples as he continued to pound into Charles, each thrust seeming to hit impossibly deep. “Charles--” he moaned, his thrusts becoming erratic, and Charles clenched as tightly as he could, watching as Erik let out a low, deep groan as he came, holding Charles in place as he spilled inside of him. He pulled Charles down into a filthy kiss, and Charles was just reaching for his own cock to finish himself off when the world suddenly flipped.

Erik smiled wickedly down from above him, still panting but wasting no time in sliding down Charles’ body. He swallowed Charles’ cock down with ease born of years of practice, and when Charles began to writhe, Erik’s large hands found Charles’ hips once again, pressing him down and holding him still. Charles let out an involuntary whine, already dangerously close to coming.

“Erik--” Charles grabbed a fistful of the sheets, trying desperately to arch up into Erik’s mouth and failing in Erik’s strong hold. “Fuck-- Erik--”

Erik took Charles that last inch deeper and then he hummed, and Charles was gone, throwing his head back and crying out as he came, his whole body shaking through aftershocks as Erik continued to lick him until every drop was gone.

Sated and exhausted, Charles went completely limp, his skin buzzing pleasantly. He blinked down at Erik lazily. “Thank god this house has thick walls.”

Erik laughed, pressing a kiss to Charles’ hip where his hands had left red marks. “A sound investment.” He continued his kisses, pausing to give special attention to the stretch marks that adorned Charles’ belly. Charles still felt a bit foolish that he’d ever thought that he could have given birth to three children without a single mark being left behind; David had done a number on him.

“Why are you so obsessed with those?” Charles asked, trying not to giggle at the feel of Erik’s ticklish kisses and stubble.

“They’re battle scars,” Erik said, nuzzling Charles’ skin. Before Charles could even respond, Erik lifted his head and said, “Can we have another one?”

Charles snorted. “How about you carry this one?”

Erik sat up, crawling on his knees so that he could reach for the wet wipes on their nightstand. “If you wanted to be on top tonight, you could have just asked,” he replied easily, waving his ass in Charles’ face. Charles let out a laugh and spanked him soundly.

“I'm not sure you could fit a baby in there with your tiny, little waist and nonexistent hips.”

“True,” Erik said, cleaning Charles carefully between his legs and tossing the wipes into the nearby trashcan. “It was a good look on you though.”

He slid his arms under Charles and hauled him up so that Charles was straddling his lap. Charles relaxed on top of him as Erik settled back against the headboard into their favorite scenting position. Erik’s hand snaked around to the back of Charles’ neck as it did so often, and he could feel Erik’s satisfaction as his fingers lightly traced the bond bite.

“Sometimes,” Erik said between lingering kisses to Charles’ lips, “I still can’t believe that you’re mine.”

“Always,” Charles said, shivering as Erik’s finger continued to ghost over the bite. “Just like you’ll always be mine.”

Erik’s only response was to scent Charles deeply, his nose pressing hard to Charles’ skin. Charles loved it. He loved being bonded to Erik and smelling of Erik. He loved having Erik’s bite on his neck, knowing that Erik had marked him and everyone could see. He loved Erik. He loved his family. He loved his life. Never in a million years had he dreamed it could have been like this, but it was. Every last painful moment had been worth it. Every struggle and tear had led him here, to Erik’s lap.

The feelings nearly overwhelmed him, until he realized they weren’t all entirely his own. Erik was having a similar moment, his mind swirling with love and contentment and a kind of wonder that never seemed to fade. It took Charles until that moment to realize that Erik hadn’t been joking about wanting to try for more kids.

Charles ran a hand through Erik’s slightly curly hair. “Let’s do it,” he said. “Let’s have another one.”

Erik paused in his scenting, pulling back to look Charles in the eye, searching for signs of a joke. When he found none, a slow grin spread across his face. “Seriously?”

“Yes,” Charles said. “My heat should be coming back soon and I won’t take birth control. It took us a long time to have David, and it might not happen, but..." He smiled. "Let’s try.”

Erik pulled Charles into an overexcited, sloppy kiss.

“In that case,” Erik said, pushing Charles back to the sheets, “we better get in as much practice as possible.”

“You can’t possibly already be ready to go again,” Charles said with a laugh, but then he could feel Erik’s cock hardening against his thigh. “You’re going to kill me,” he said and pulled Erik down into a kiss anyway.

Erik’s hands slid down Charles’ body to cup his ass, and Charles was really starting to get into the idea of round two, fisting his hand in Erik’s hair and nipping at Erik’s lips. He’d just made Erik moan when David’s piercing cries came through the baby monitor, shattering their moment. Erik stilled, letting out an exasperated groan, and collapsed on top of Charles.

“Never mind,” Erik mumbled against Charles’ neck. “Four is plenty.”

 

*******

 

A little over a year later, Anya was born.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End!
> 
> I can't believe this story is over! I've never written anything even close to this long before. I'm having trouble letting go which was why this epilogue was a little late. I got really attached to Sink or Swim Charles and Erik ;_;
> 
> I want to give huge thanks to [Thacmis](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Thacmis/pseuds/Thacmis), [thenewgothicromance](http://archiveofourown.org/users/thenewgothicromance/pseuds/thenewgothicromance), [afrocurl](http://archiveofourown.org/users/afrocurl/pseuds/afrocurl), and [niniblack](http://archiveofourown.org/users/niniblack/pseuds/niniblackl). I never would have been able to finish this story without these wonderful people I had helping me. You guys are the best!
> 
> And I'd also like to give a huge, huge thanks to all of you who read, kudosed, and commented. Your feedback always meant the world to me and was appreciated far more than you might even imagine :D Thank you for making this fic writing experience so awesome for me!
> 
> I was also so so fortunate to receive amazing fanworks from some readers, so I'd like to link them here!
> 
>  
> 
> [An amazing cover by avictoriangirl](http://endingthemes.tumblr.com/post/129576879626/avictoriangirl-cover-art-for-the-lovely)  
> [Gorgeous first chapter Charles art by lisas999](http://endingthemes.tumblr.com/post/127602061516/lisas999-quick-sketch-for-endingthemes-after)  
> [Jaw-dropping passionate makeout art by mikanskey](http://endingthemes.tumblr.com/post/131454754706/mikanskey-this-fanart-shows-a-scene-from)  
> [Lovely scenting art by theworstlakeever](http://theworstlakeever.tumblr.com/post/129838664629/sink-or-swim)  
> [Wanda, Pietro, and Lorna manip by zemole](http://endingthemes.tumblr.com/post/131753546526/zemole-boredom-and-because-im-obsessed-with)  
> [Another manip of the kids by zemole! (Charles obviously dressed them up!)](http://endingthemes.tumblr.com/post/132637572416/timelosser-zemole-more-of-the-lovely)
> 
>  
> 
> I know I just said thank you like 500 times, but once more -- thank you!!!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Cover art for "Sink or Swim"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4841873) by [avictoriangirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/avictoriangirl/pseuds/avictoriangirl)
  * [Art inspired by Sink or Swim [fanart]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5025109) by [Mikanskey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mikanskey/pseuds/Mikanskey)




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